


Storms

by quercus



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-09-01
Updated: 2001-09-01
Packaged: 2017-10-05 12:09:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/41598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quercus/pseuds/quercus





	Storms

The thunder rolled, growing closer, as Daniel rose from their messy bed. Ben slept on, beautiful in his sleep, one arm looped around the foot of the bed. The windows were open, letting in the sweet, moist air that curled Daniel's hair and flattened Ben's so it curved across his forehead in a graceful fall. Daniel took a last look, then picked up his clothes and shoes and went into the bathroom, to clean up and dress as quietly as he could before leaving.

It was the last time he'd be with Ben; he knew that.

The afternoon was moving into dusk when he emerged from the dorm where Ben lived; lights were coming on in rooms above him, glowing in the darkening air. Leaves crunched under his feet, and he ducked as a football flew over his head. "Hey, Jackson!" someone called. "Catch!" He obediently caught the ball and tossed it neatly back, but refused to join the game.

At the far end of the quad, he turned and for a moment, looked back across the leaf-littered lawn at the dormitory he'd spent so many hours in. Third floor, a corner room with two big windows open to catch the light and fresh air, and a single bed. He felt his heart breaking and tears came to his eyes, but he knew he couldn't go back.

He moved away, back to his own room, in an older, more modest dormitory. He had a lot of studying to do, if he was really going to Egypt with Professor Salas in December. Less than two weeks away. He couldn't believe it. Finally, back to Egypt, the country of his heart, where he'd spent so much time as a little boy and where he'd longed to return ever since. Ben didn't understand; he couldn't understand. He came from an intact family that spent every holiday together. His greatest ambition was to earn a bachelor's in business administration with a minor in economics and work in his father's insurance firm.

He knew Ben loved him. What they shared went far beyond the frenzied fucking of Daniel's earlier experiences. He was a normal young man, with normal impulses, and an afternoon of mindless sex was neither unknown nor undesirable to him. But with Ben -- it was so intense. His mind and heart were equally involved with his body.

He could feel tremors in his throat and lips by the time he reached his dorm, and ran up the back stairs, avoiding everyone, ducking into his room before he could embarrass himself. There, he flung open his own much smaller window and stared out. He couldn't see Ben's dorm, but he knew where it was. "Sorry," he whispered. "I'm sorry." It was the first time Daniel had ever left anyone; always before, he'd been left. He was shocked to learn how much it hurt to do the leaving.

Years later and light years away, Daniel still remembered that evening, the thunder growing louder until it shook the window he pressed his forehead against, how he'd cried until his head hurt and he thought he'd throw up, and how he'd spent the night, alone, shivering as if ill with flu, looking into a future empty of Ben.

But I had to, he told himself then, and he tells himself still, and he's right. He had to. He couldn't stay with Ben. He had far too much growing up left to do to settle down with anyone, and his blood longed to travel the world. He would've been miserable, and he would've made Ben miserable. Yet he mourned the loss of the most important relationship in his life, and he mourns it still.

Ben. His gold hair and hazel eyes, his youthful body, his long fingers touching Daniel's body, and his warm presence in Daniel's life. All gone now.

* * *

SG-1 clambered down the ramp back into the SGC very pleased with themselves. Carter was sure she'd found naquadah and Daniel had found evidence of Minoan culture from two millennia ago. A wonderful site for a dig, he'd told Jack repeatedly, until Jack started telling him why it was a wonderful site for a dig, and they'd both laughed at Daniel's enthusiasm.

"Well, yes," Daniel said, and then started in again, Jack rolling his eyes but listening as Daniel rambled on. Daniel appreciated Jack's patience; outsiders might think they were fighting, but he knew they were not. It was just Jack's way, and it had become Daniel's way, over their years together.

"Infirmary first," Jack told them, unsnapping his helmet and briskly rubbing a hand through his short hair. "Debriefing. And then I am so outta here. What're you gonna do for fun?"

"Um, review my notes, drawings, and the video tapes we made."

"You dirty dog."

Daniel threw him a look as he pulled his own helmet off.

"Doctor Jackson," General Hammond interrupted them. All four teammates stopped to look up at his tone of voice.

"Yes, sir?"

"A Ben Edwards has been trying to reach you. He says it's urgent. The message was forwarded to me since you were off-world."

Daniel stared at the general, shocked. "Ben? Ben called? How --? He shook his head. "Thank you, General. I'll, uh. I'll call him. Do you know how to reach him?"

"All the information we have is waiting in your office. Doctor Jackson. I'm sure I don't need to remind you that the work you're doing here is classified."

"No, no. Of course. Thank you."

Carter put her hand on Daniel's elbow, and he permitted her to lead him to the infirmary. Jack fell into step beside them, with Teal'c close by.

"So. Who's this Edwards guy?"

"An old friend. Very old friend. I haven't seen him since I was an undergraduate."

Jack nodded, as if he understood, but not even Daniel understood.

Oh, Ben, he thought.

Doctor Frasier and her staff examined Daniel first, at Jack's insistence, so he could get away to his office. He was silently grateful to Jack, sending him a look he hoped Jack would understand. Then he was off, walking swiftly down the corridor, into the elevator and up, and finally into his office. There, neatly centered on his desk, was a Fed Ex envelope, its familiar blue and orange colors a striking contrast to the detritus of Daniel's SGC work.

He stood at his desk for a moment, before poking at the envelope. Sighing, he finally ripped it open and found a letter from Ben.

"I am very ill," he'd written. "I don't know how to find you. My wife, Reina, contacted Steven Rayner at the Oriental Institute, who gave this address for you. I hope it reaches you; I understand that you are frequently away doing work for the Air Force.

"If this finds you in time, I would like to see you again, Dan. Reina, my two children, and I have moved back into my parents' home in Elmwood. Please come as soon as you can."

Ben had given no more information, just a series of phone numbers and email addresses, as well as his parents' street address. Daniel stared at the note for nearly a minute, shocked at the power of seeing Ben's name again. Of being asked to see him. One last time.

Ben was dying; there was no other conclusion Daniel could draw. He was dying, as Daniel's parents had, as his wife had. He was losing yet another important piece of his life, a link to a past he remembered with both great pain and great pleasure.

"Hey." Daniel looked up to find Jack leaning against the doorway. "What's up?"

Daniel bit his lip and looked down at the letter again. Produced on a computer. Maybe dictated by Ben. His signature was his familiar scrawl, perhaps a bit shakier, nothing more. "A friend. He's ill. Dying, I think. Maybe. He's asked me to come see him."

"Okay. When you wanna leave?"

Oh, god. The logistics of this. "I guess I need to get permission," Daniel started, looking around for a pencil to start a list. "From you, General Hammond. Make reservations. Find a hotel. Pack."

"No."

Daniel looked up in surprise. "No? I can't go?"

"No, you can go. The Air Force will take care of everything. Tell me when and where."

"Uh, Jack."

"Daniel." He took the pencil from Daniel's hand and picked up a scrap of paper, flipping it over to make sure it didn't hold the secrets of the universe on it. "Where?"

"Elmwood, Illinois. Just outside of Chicago."

"Okay, cool. We fly into O'Hare. When?"

Daniel looked at the note again. Please come as soon as you can, Ben had written. "Soon," he whispered.

"Anything at home you need?"

"I, uh. I guess not."

"Okay. You got extra clothes here; use your pack as a suitcase. I'll be back in an hour or so and we'll have dinner in the commissary. I'll let you know when we leave."

"We? You're coming?"

"Daniel." He looked up at Jack, who was still dressed in his BDUs from the last mission, tired, dirty, smelling a bit of too much exercise and not enough fresh water, and yet somehow he exuded the strength and comfort that Daniel needed. "You think I'd let you do this by yourself?"

He dropped his eyes again, a little embarrassed. "Thank you," he whispered.

"Go shower, Danny. Start packing. I'll take care of everything else."

"Thank you," he said again, but Jack was already gone.

Only when they were finally seated in the commissary eating cold sandwiches and bad coffee did Daniel think to ask why. "Why will you be coming?"

"Ahh, would you believe to make sure you didn't spill any classified info?"

"No."

"Didn't think so. How about I was raised in Chicago and was looking for an excuse to go back, see some friends?"

"No."

"Hmm. Well, then, Doctor Jackson. Why *would* I be going with you?"

Daniel felt himself blush and took a gulp of the coffee. "Because you're my friend," he said at last, and Jack smiled.

"Give the man a cigar."

Hammond stopped by on his way home, to let Daniel and Jack know their flight left at oh-four-hundred and to tell Daniel how sorry he was. "I know what it's like to lose old friends, son," he told him, and Daniel could see in his eyes that he did indeed know. "I'm sorry this is happening. Take care of yourself."

"Thank you, sir."

Hammond patted his shoulder, and gave Jack a look that Daniel knew meant he was to take care of Daniel. He was a little offended that the general felt he needed looking after, but equally grateful that Jack was willing to spend his down time with him, at this time.

"Thank you," he said again, this time to both men. Hammond nodded and left; Jack looked embarrassed and took a big bite of his sandwich.

The flight was awful. Daniel puked several times, but Jack was used to his motion sickness and just quietly handed him barf bags and held him by his shoulders, offering him water during the calmer moments. "I hate these military transports," Daniel said hoarsely.

"I'm not real wild about them myself," Jack concurred, but then Daniel bent over and began throwing up again. The airmen around them ignored Daniel with a pitying disdain that he found almost comforting, and he realized that meant he'd been working with the Air Force too long. He wasn't even really embarrassed; it was just what happened when he flew. He comforted himself by remembering that Jack said almost every astronaut had puked in space.

It was nearly noon Chicago time when they finally staggered out of the enormous plane and into the hazy sunlight of a late autumn day. Daniel still felt nauseated and shaky, but Jack had him by the elbow, and the airmen made sure he was first off the transport. He breathed in the fuel-smelling air with pleasure, wiping his forehead with a sleeve. "We need to rent a car," he told Jack, who put on his sunglasses and smiled.

"No we don't."

And they didn't. The Air Force really did take care of its own, Jack thought not for the first time, as they settled into the back seat of a black Lincoln Town Car. Hammond must've made these arrangements. The driver took them to a hotel on the Gold Coast of Lake Michigan, despite Daniel's request to go straight to Ben's parents' home.

"Not looking like that," Jack told him firmly, and then said to the driver, "Give us a couple hours, then be back here. We'll go out this evening."

Some part of Daniel really didn't want to see this Ben guy, Jack figured when he stopped arguing immediately and followed Jack up to their rooms, which turned out to be a suite on the seventeenth floor. Hammond's doing again, Jack thought, and made a mental note to thank him for not separating them. It wouldn't do Daniel any good to be alone right now.

Instead, Jack bullied him into showering and called room service while he did, insisting Daniel eat something before lying down a bit. Daniel was looking more and more miserable, though, so Jack sat in the same room and read the Chicago Sun-Times, keeping a sharp eye on his friend.

In two hours they were at the curb waiting for their car. Both men had changed and Jack now wore his dress blues. He looked, he knew, intimidating, and he knew Daniel found that look on him comforting. Daniel was wearing a sports coat and knitted tie; Jack thought he looked like an academic in mourning. Which he supposed he was.

It took another hour to navigate to Elmwood. "How'd you meet this guy?" Jack asked him, hoping to divert Daniel a bit.

He only shrugged. "College."

"Yeah. You were undergraduates. Was he an anthropology major, too?"

Daniel smiled and shook his head. "No, business. He thought anthropology was a ridiculous major. But we had a statistics class together, and just." Daniel shrugged. "You know."

Jack didn't know. His college friends were from ROTC and sports, not from statistics classes. "So, you started hangin' out, double-dating, things like that?"

This time Daniel's smile was a little secretive and knowing. "Something like that."

Hmm. Jack studied him carefully. He did look better, a little more color in his face. "Daniel, this is none of my business, but if you guys were so close that he wants to see you before, uh, before he goes, how come you never mentioned him?"

Daniel turned to watch the houses slip past them; they were in a residential neighborhood now and must be nearing Ben's place. He shrugged again. "You never talk about your college friends."

Well, that was a non-answer, but the car glided to a stop and the driver sprang out to open the door for them. Jack sidled out first, fitting his hat carefully back on, and then helped Daniel out, who looked as though he might faint.

"Thank you, Airman," Jack told the driver. "Please wait for us." Then he took Daniel's elbow and started him moving up the walkway to the front door.

It was a nice house, Jack thought. Upper middle class, not too ostentatious, cars hidden in the garage. He stood a half-step ahead of Daniel and rapped sharply on the door, assuming his most intimidating persona for the benefit of whoever answered. After a moment, a pretty woman about Daniel's age opened the door; she was red-eyed, her face puffy, and she looked angry.

"Colonel Jack O'Neill of the U.S. Air Force, ma'am," he told her briskly. "This is Doctor Daniel Jackson."

She stared at them, her eyes widening in shock. Before she could say anything, an older man stepped into the doorway and gently moved her aside. "Dan?"

"Mister Edwards?"

Jack moved marginally aside so he could watch Daniel's face as the two men greeted each other. "Thank you, Dan. Ben's been asking for you."

"I'm so sorry, Mister Edwards. I never, no one told me . . ."

"Come in," the woman said, and pushed the older man back. "Let them in, Dad."

So Jack stepped into the parents' home of Daniel's friend, looking carefully around before moving far enough inside that Daniel could also step in. Daniel shot him a look that said they'd discuss Jack's behavior later, but Jack was used to that look and those discussions. This was his job. Daniel didn't have to like it.

"Um, Mister Edwards, this is my friend, Jack."

"Colonel O'Neill," the woman said. "I'm Ben's wife, Reina."

"Oh! Reina. Queen," Daniel said, and she smiled and blushed.

"Yes. That's what Ben calls me."

"Where are your children?"

"With my wife," Mr. Edwards said. "They'll be home in a while. Come in, please." The four of them moved into a spotless living room; it looked like the cover of a magazine, so perfectly were the flowers arranged and the pillows tossed. Jack didn't much like it; he preferred his own light-filled place, or Daniel's book-crowded apartment. Still, if one wanted to say "money" in no uncertain terms, this room would do it.

"How is, uh. How is Ben?" Daniel asked, his voice trembling. Jack stepped nearer to him and took his elbow again. Daniel never glanced at him.

Reina and Ben's father looked at each other. "He's dying of leukemia," the old man said flatly, and Reina began to cry. "Not a goddamn thing anybody can do about it." Jack wondered what argument they were hearing a piece of.

They stood their awkwardly for another minute. Jack was just about to suggest they let Daniel see Ben, since that's why they'd come all this way, when Reina wiped her face with a tattered kleenex and said, "He's been asking for you ever since. He's been asking for you." She turned and led them down a hallway, up a flight of stairs, and then into what had obviously been the master bedroom but was now a hospital room.

Daniel stopped at the door, and Jack again put his hand on Daniel's elbow. He couldn't think what else to do. He heard Reina say, "Ben? Ben, honey? Your friend's here." Then Daniel took a step inside. Jack heard him gasp.

Reina had gone to the far side of the hospital bed, the side with all the monitors and drips, and stood leaning over it, looking down into her husband's face. Jack noticed there were snapshots of people scotch-taped to the aluminum railing of the bed on that side, where Ben could easily see them. Light jazz was playing very softly, and even on this chilly grey day, the windows were open.

Not a bad place to die, he thought, comparing them to the places he'd almost bought it. Then he focused his attention on Daniel again. "Dan," Ben whispered, but Daniel stood frozen, staring at his old friend. Who looked, Jack thought, like a dying man should. Pale, emaciated, trembling. Reina straightened up and said, "I'll leave you two to talk," then left. She paused at the door and, without looking, Jack knew she was waiting for him to leave with her. Instead, he stood at attention and waited for his friend. The door closed.

"Dan?" Ben said again. "Oh, my god, you came." His voice trembled, with emotion or pain, Jack couldn't tell, but his pale face flushed and he struggled to sit up straighter against the raised bed.

"Jesus, Ben," Daniel said in a choked voice, and then stopped, apparently frozen. The two men stared at each other, and Jack grew more uncomfortable. After nearly a minute had passed, he cleared his throat. "Oh, Jack." Daniel turned to look at him, and Jack saw he was flushed with some emotion. "This is Ben. Ben, this is my friend, Jack."

Ben stared at Jack; inexplicably, tears filled Ben's eyes. "Oh, Dan," he whispered again.

"I'll just. I'll wait outside," Jack said quickly. He backed up to the door and watched as Daniel finally walked to the side of Ben's bed. Ben reached out with both hands to Daniel, who took them, and then, to Jack's dismay, kissed them, then bent over and kissed Ben gently on the lips. Jack nearly Tollaned himself right through the door.

Daniel heard the door shut behind him, but all he could see was Ben's face, the young and beautiful face superimposed over this thin and exhausted one. This Ben was balding, but Daniel remembered the soft fall of blond hair across his unlined forehead. This Ben's cheekbones were jagged and his skin bruised and fragile, but Daniel remembered the softness of Ben's face, his tender skin Daniel loved to stroke and kiss. This Ben was dying.

He kissed Ben's fingers, remembering doing that nearly twenty years ago, sucking on them so Ben would slip them into Daniel's body, finger-fucking him into a powerful orgasm. That memory made him lean over and kiss Ben's lips, now thin and cracked, not the lush mouth that had eaten Daniel up all those years ago.

"Ben," he whispered, and wiped a tear from Ben's face. "I missed you."

Ben gave a harsh laugh. "Not as much as I missed you, Dan. Or you would've come back to me, not gone off to Egypt."

"I'm sorry," and at that moment he was, even though he knew it was irrational. He had had to go to Egypt; he'd been compelled. His life had been foreordained; not going had not been possible.

"I never forgot you."

"You should have."

"Did you forget me?"

"Not for one minute." That was a lie, and Daniel could see that Ben knew it was, but they let it go. Sometimes lies were more truthful than the truth.

"Who's the soldier?"

"Jack? My friend. My supervisor, I guess, although we don't have that kind of relationship."

"So you're in the military now? Air Force?"

Daniel shook his head. "Civilian advisor." He smiled down at Ben. "Can you really see me in the military?" Ben squeezed his fingers, and sighed. "You're tired. I should go."

"No, please, Dan. Just a few minutes more." He closed his eyes, and Daniel felt a tremor in his hands as he slipped into some kind of sleep or unconsciousness. "Just a minute," Ben whispered, but then his face went slack. Daniel closed his eyes, still holding Ben's hand.

He'd loved Ben, he had, and he'd left him. At some cost to himself. Later, he'd found Sarah, and lost her, and Sha'uri, and lost her. Now he had no one.

Jack found Reina Edwards sitting on a low bench just down the hall. "I'm just, ah, giving them some time alone," Jack explained, then stood at attention, as if he were on guard duty. Which he supposed he was. He was grateful he'd left his sunglasses on; he knew how forbidding they made him appear.

"Ben never got over Dan leaving him," Reina told him conversationally, staring at the wall in front of her. "Never. I always knew I was his second choice."

Jack literally had no words for her. He couldn't think of a single thing to say. He stared at her; she stared at the wall. Behind him, he could hear the quiet murmur of male voices, but no words distinguished themselves.

At last Reina sighed and looked at him. "How long have you known Dan?"

"Six years. Little more."

She nodded. "I'm glad he found someone. From what Ben told me, he was alone ever since they broke up."

"No. No, that's not true. He was married to a beautiful woman. They were very happy."

She looked a little skeptical. "Dan tell you that?"

"No. I was at the wedding. Best man." It was nearly true.

Now they stared at each other, and Jack wondered if they were arguing and, if so, what about. At last she nodded. "What happened?"

Jack dropped his eyes. "She was killed. Died in Daniel's arms." And he never got over it, he wanted to add, but that seemed too personal to share with this slightly hostile stranger.

"But you were there for him."

Jack suddenly caught a clue. "Oh." He felt himself blush. But he swallowed his protestations. He didn't like Mrs. Edwards; he didn't want to give her any weapons to use against Daniel. "I've tried to be," he admitted, and that much was true. He hadn't done a very good job; he'd be the first to admit that. But he'd tried, in his own cack-handed way, to be there for Daniel.

What an idiot I am, he told himself, and gently thumped the back of his head against the door behind him. What an idiot.

He stood there, watching Reina from the corner of his eye, for the next twenty minutes or so, waiting for Daniel. His lower back was starting to ache when the door opened. He quickly stepped aside for Daniel, who gave him a long, rather mysterious look, and then said, "Reina? Ben's asleep." She rushed past them, to Ben's side. Daniel stood next to Jack, looking back at his friend, and Jack watched as Daniel said, "I'll come back tomorrow. When he feels better."

Ben's father met them at the foot of the stairs. "Thank you for coming, Dan," he told him, and then, to Jack's surprise, embraced Daniel warmly. Daniel blushed but hugged him and patted his back.

"We'll come back for a little bit tomorrow," Daniel said, and Mr. Edwards nodded.

"Thank you, son. It'll do him a world of good. And Mavis will be here tomorrow. She'll want to see you again."

Jack gently herded Daniel out the front door and back into the waiting car. He felt drained and had a headache; he couldn't imagine what Daniel must be feeling as he rested his head against the window. He was pale and drawn.

Room service tonight, Jack decided. He might call Janet, see if she could suggest something to help Daniel sleep.

Once back in their suite, Daniel stood fidgeting in the middle of the room while Jack opened the minibar and pulled out two tiny bottles of scotch. As he filled two glasses with ice and poured their drinks, Daniel said, "It's okay to ask. You know. About Ben."

"Reina told me," Jack said neutrally, holding out a glass for Daniel.

He took it slowly, looking into Jack's face. For disapproval? Disappointment? Jack wondered as he sipped his drink.

"Are you. Are we okay?"

"Daniel. You loved him. He still loves you."

Daniel turned bright red, and then stumbled away, nearly spilling his drink in his haste. Jack followed him, catching him yet again by the elbow. "Siddown, okay? Just, just sit." Daniel lowered himself onto the couch, setting his drink down untouched. "And drink that," Jack ordered him, taking another swallow himself.

"I'm afraid," Daniel said quietly. Jack sat on the coffee table next to Daniel's drink, picked it up, and made him take a sip. Daniel blushed again, but laughed. "Okay, okay. You want me drunk, I'll get drunk." He gulped the scotch and coughed, wiping his mouth, and drank again.

"Good boy," Jack said dryly, but he really did think the alcohol would help Daniel.

"I'm not a boy," Daniel said suddenly, looking up at Jack. They stared at each other for a few seconds, and then Jack nodded.

"I know. I'm sorry, Daniel. I didn't mean to be patronizing. I'm just worried about you."

"I loved Ben," Daniel said, and started to cry. Jack took the drink from him, surprised at how quickly this had happened, and sat next to his friend, putting an arm around Daniel's shoulders so he rested against Jack's side. His crying was painful to listen to, pulled out of him, jerky, like hiccups. When he calmed after only a few seconds, Jack gently shook him.

"I know you did. And I can see that he loved you very much."

Daniel sniffed. "Thank you."

"Reina said you left him."

Daniel nodded, and took a more careful sip of the scotch. "Yeah. I had an opportunity to go to Egypt on a dig with one of my professors. Ben just couldn't understand why I'd want to do that. We were having awful arguments. I couldn't bear it. So I just left."

"That must've been hard to do."

"You have no idea," he said softly, and Jack thought that was true. He'd only ever been left; he'd never done the leaving. Somehow he knew for a man as sensitive and caring as Daniel, that would have been a difficult and painful decision.

"Was it the right thing to do?"

Daniel looked at him, blinking in surprise. "Do you know that I've never asked myself that question? I've just felt guilty for all these years. Nearly twenty years of guilt."

"Well. Was it?"

Jack watched Daniel think about it, puzzle it over. At last he said, "I think it was. I think if I'd stayed, we'd've argued more and more and ended up hating each other."

"Plus you might not have gotten to Egypt."

"Yeah. Maybe not. At least for a while." The two men sat there on the couch for a long time, Daniel still leaning against Jack, as they sipped their drinks. "Got a headache," Daniel confessed at last.

"Me, too. I've got some ibuprofen in my case; I'll get the bottle."

They each took two, and Jack opened another bottle of scotch they split, and then they studied the room service menu, trying to decide what to eat. The evening was quiet; neither of them moved to turn on the TV, nor did Daniel read. They just talked quietly about inconsequentials: the flight out. The last mission. What Sergeant Siler really used that enormous wrench for. Jack had a number of creative suggestions; to his pleasure, so did Daniel.

By nine thirty, Daniel was flagging, so Jack insisted he shower and go to bed. "It's too early," he protested, and Jack remembered Charlie begging for a later bedtime. "It's only eight thirty at home."

At home. Jack smiled. "We're not at home, Daniel," he reminded him. "And you had a rough flight out. Give yourself a break."

Jack had showered and was lying in bed reading USA Today when Daniel knocked on his door, sticking his still-damp head in. "Hey."

"Hey." Jack tossed the paper down and sat up, leaning against the headboard. "Come in. What's up?"

"Nothing. Just." He remained at the door.

Each of their rooms had two queen-sized beds. Jack looked at Daniel, and then at the made bed next to his. "Hey. Listen. Don't tell anyone, but would you sleep in here tonight?"

Daniel blushed, but said, "I'm fine, Jack." He sounded fine, too, much like his usual self.

"Didn't say you weren't. Just asking." They stared at each other. "Come on, Daniel. We share a tent all the time." Without another word, Daniel crossed to the bed and crawled under the covers. Jack turned off the light and got comfortable, a little relieved to have Daniel under his eye. "Tell me about Ben," he said, as he'd wanted to ever since Daniel had received the Fed Ex package.

"You already know most of it."

"You met in college. He was your, uh, boyfriend. You broke up. That's not much. Did you guys stay in touch?"

"No." He heard Daniel shift in the bed. "A couple days after, well. See, I didn't really break up with him. I just left and went back to my dorm room. It was finals week, so we were really busy and I knew he wouldn't wonder where I was for a couple days. I figured I might be able to actually leave without saying anything."

"Oh, man. That's harsh."

"Yeah." Daniel sounded ashamed. "My only excuse is that I was very young, and a little immature. And scared. I really wanted to go with Professor Salas, and I was afraid Ben would persuade me not to."

"Wow. You were a tough guy even then."

"I was a jerk."

"Well, yeah. Tough guys usually are. Look at me."

Daniel laughed, as Jack had intended. "My role model."

"Oh, sure, you betcha. So what happened? I take it you didn't get away?"

"No. Not at all. After a couple days, Ben came looking for me. It was pretty awful. At first he didn't believe me, then he was angry, then he cried. I felt so, so guilty. I was supposed to go home with him for the holidays, and he kept asking me what his parents would think."

"Jesus. That sounds rough, Danny."

"Oh, god, Jack. It was so awful. I cried gallons. And we weren't really out, although I suppose people figured it out from all the yelling and crying going on, but I was trying to be discreet, and he wasn't, and I was trying to do well on the exams, and he didn't care . . ."

"What happened?"

Jack heard the sheets sliding over each other on the next bed, and Daniel sighed heavily. "Time passed, the way it always does. I packed up and got on the plane to Egypt. He went home to Elmwood without me. I wrote him a stupid letter, telling him I was sorry but that I had to go. He never wrote back. When I got back to school the following year, he'd transferred to the University of Chicago, to be near his family.

"When I was at the Oriental Institute, I did try to look him up. I saw in the papers that he married Reina O'Malley, and figured he wouldn't want to see me. Now that he was married."

Jack remembered what Reina had told him: That Daniel had been first in Ben's life. "He never tried to reach you?"

"No. I suppose he could've followed my career, if you can call it that. Certainly, for a while, I was in the news. But then Catherine found me, and, well."

"Yeah." Jack thought about it as he listened to Daniel fall asleep. What a terrible ending to a relationship. And a fairly important relationship, apparently.

Ben must've fixated on Daniel. If they'd been permitted to end things more gracefully, maybe Reina wouldn't feel like a second-class citizen in her own marriage. And Daniel wouldn't feel so guilty. Maybe this was the chance for Ben to make things right.

He wanted to ask more, but Daniel's soft breaths told him he was asleep, or nearly asleep, and he didn't want to disturb him after such a terrible day. So he lay awake, thinking of his own lost loves, and terrible endings to powerful relationships, and finally slept himself.

Daniel looked better the next day. A day without puking and a good night's sleep could do that. Jack took him to breakfast at an expensive place a couple blocks down Michigan Street, smiling as Daniel realized the quality of the coffee there. Jack insisted he eat heartily, knowing that after he'd seen Ben again he wouldn't want food for a while. They killed some time window shopping, and Daniel found a tiny gallery of Native American art to explore as soon as it opened at ten, but by noon they were back in the Town Car returning to Elmwood.

Ben's mother was there, Mavis, devastated by her son's illness. Daniel held onto her tightly as she wept into his shoulder. He released her into her husband's arms, and then Jack followed him as he once again climbed the stairs to Ben's room.

Reina was there, standing in the same place, holding her husband's hand. Ben looked, to Jack, even worse than he had the day before. His muscle tone was slack, and his face grey against the white sheets. He'd lost most of his hair, and Jack wondered if that was due to the treatments he'd had. Not the sort of thing one could ask, though. Reina kissed Ben, on his mouth and then on his forehead, and then left again, smiling tremulously at Jack but ignoring Daniel.

"Hey," Daniel said, and took Ben's hand again. "You didn't really get to meet my friend Jack, did you." Jack stood next to Daniel and, after a few seconds, took off his sunglasses.

"Hi," he said, awkward in his embarrassment. Ben nodded, his light brown eyes flicking between Jack and Daniel. Jack saw the muscles of his arm twitch, and then he reached up, for Jack, who captured his hand. "Can I do something for you?" Ben's hand was cold and trembling; he could feel the fragile bones beneath the fragile skin.

"Take care of Dan," Ben whispered, and Jack closed his eyes. "Please," Ben added.

Jack opened his eyes and looked at Ben. "I swear I will," he said at last, and then looked at Daniel.

"Ben," Daniel said, "Jack and I aren't -- we're not. Lovers."

Ben looked puzzled, as if he hadn't heard correctly.

"Daniel is under my command, as a civilian adjunct to the Air Force," Jack explained, surprised at his unwillingness to do so. "As his supervisory officer, I will do everything I can to keep him safe. As his friend, I will, too." He looked at Daniel, who seemed surprised.

"Reina said," Ben began, and then sighed, as if the words were beyond him. Daniel looked at Jack.

"I let her think that," Jack explained, feeling the blood rise to his face. "It seemed easier. And besides." Well, shit. Besides what? Both Ben and Daniel were watching him. "I do love him," he finally admitted, wondering if Daniel would let him get away with that statement.

But Daniel just stared at him, and Jack saw a pleased look cross his face. "Thank you, Jack," he said. Jack shyly touched his arm, and then nodded at Ben.

"I'll let you guys talk a while. I'll be right outside, Daniel."

He started to walk away, and then came back and bent over the hospital bed's railings, so his face was near Ben's. "I do love him," he said very quietly. "I will take care of him."

A tear rolled out of Ben's left eye, but he didn't respond. They looked evenly at each other, and then Jack left, without meeting Daniel's eyes. Again, he waited outside the door, this time hearing only Daniel's tenor behind him. Reina was nowhere to be seen.

Almost an hour later, the door opened and Daniel came out. He'd been crying, Jack could see, but was composed now. He led the way downstairs and into the kitchen, where Ben's folks were. His mother jumped up and hugged Daniel again, kissing his cheeks. "Thank you, thank you," she said brokenly. Ben's father also hugged Daniel.

"We missed you," he said.

"I missed you, too, Mister Edwards, Missus Edwards. Please. Let me know . . . "

There was a long silence, and then Mr. Edwards said, "We will. Leave your phone number, and I'll call you."

"Thank you."

Once they were in the Town Car again, Daniel asked, "What time's our flight out?"

"Tomorrow morning at seven."

Daniel nodded, but said nothing more.

Jack rented a movie that night and had room service bring popcorn and pizza up; he and Daniel sat on the couch and pretended to watch it, while surreptitiously watching each other. Daniel again spent the night in Jack's room. When the lights were out, Jack finally asked, "Why did Ben want to see you?"

For a while, he thought Daniel wouldn't answer. He turned onto his side, preparing to go to sleep, when Daniel finally said, "He apologized. Asked my forgiveness. Told me he still loves me. Would always love me." Daniel's voice broke in a little gasp of pain.

There was another long silence, and then Jack asked, "Do you love him?"

Again, he thought Daniel wouldn't answer, but at last he said, "Not like I used to. Not that way. I'm not that person anymore."

"No. No, you wouldn't be," Jack agreed, and was puzzled at the lightness in his heart at Daniel's words.

He was starting to drift off when Daniel said, "You told Ben you loved me."

He thought about pretending to be asleep, but it seemed cowardly. "Yeah. Yeah, I do. You hadda know that."

"I thought. Maybe."

"Yeah. I know. Sometimes I'm a jerk."

"I'm a jerk, too."

"Well. We're men, you know?"

"Yeah. Twice the dysfunction."

"What the hell's that mean?"

Daniel laughed. "Just a joke. Go to sleep, Jack." And Jack was able to, because Daniel sounded so normal.

For the first time he could remember, Daniel woke up before Jack. He lay in the bed next to his, listening to Jack's even breaths, little half-snores he'd grown accustomed to in their years of working together. Jack had the gift of being able to sleep anywhere, anytime. It was comforting. Daniel had actually talked about it with Sam. She agreed: if they were in danger but could hear Jack's snores, they knew they'd be okay.

He finally crawled out of bed as quietly as he could and went to his own bedroom on the opposite side of the suite, to wash and dress himself. He went downstairs to the lobby and bought a Washington Post and a New York Times, and an extra-large Italian roast.

For a while he sat in the spacious lobby, keeping a close eye on the enormous chandelier dominating it; all those lights and crystals dangling from really ugly fake gold arms, like an oversized octopus. Still, made it easier to wake up, all that light.

Through the massive windows, he could see trees tossing wildly in the wind. Dawn was just breaking, revealing a curdled looking purple sky. Someone came in and a gust of moist air rushed in, rustling his papers. Rain. He knew that smell, after years in the desert. Great. Another storm, just in time for the flight home. Now he could puke all the way back to Colorado.

He'd never see Ben again. Daniel wasn't sure how he felt about that. It was hard, having seen his lover lying in a hospital bed, looking twenty years older than he was. And Reina clearly knew what they'd been to each other; she didn't have to say a word. The expression on her face said more than enough. Ben had never been the most discreet man. And they'd never had a chance to say goodbye.

But he couldn't regret seeing Ben one final time. To kiss him one last time. And oddly enough, he didn't regret having Jack learn about Ben and him. It was a relief, a weight from his heart, to know that Jack knew, and apparently didn't mind too much. He'd asked about Ben, and listened as Daniel had talked about him last night, and even let Daniel sleep in the spare bed in his room again; that didn't sound as though he were afraid Daniel would rob him of his virtue.

But then, Jack wouldn't. He was an extraordinary man; Daniel knew that. He wasn't like the other military men Daniel had met. Much more open to new ideas, more flexible in his thinking. He didn't bother to hide who he was; maybe because he was a colonel, high enough in rank and close enough to retirement not to worry anymore. But more likely he'd always been that way. Whatever, Daniel was grateful to Jack.

And Jack loved him. Daniel smiled at the newspaper in his hand, remembering the exchange between Ben and Jack. He should be insulted, he supposed; one lover passing the responsibility of caring for Daniel to the other -- wait. Wait. Jack wasn't his lover.

He stood up suddenly, unable to remain still with that thought reverberating in his head. He bundled up the papers and tossed his empty coffee cup, then headed toward the elevators. Jack would be up by now, and worried about him. He'd probably get a scolding when he returned.

He almost hoped so.

Daniel was gone when Jack woke the next morning, and for a few moments he panicked, until he found Daniel's carry-on bag and clothes remained in the second bedroom, and his toothbrush and paste still sitting on the bathroom counter. Just out for a walk, then, for coffee and a newspaper probably. But he continued to worry until he heard the suite's front door open and the sound of Daniel returning.

"Whew," he said, brushing back his hair. "Windy out. Looks like a storm."

"Take your Dramamine."

"Jack. That makes me sleep."

"So. Better to sleep than puke all the way back to Colorado Springs." Daniel raised his eyebrows, but Jack saw he was convinced. "Now, Daniel. We need to catch that plane in just over an hour."

So Daniel slept on Jack's shoulder all the way back, and staggered groggily off the plane into a surprisingly warm late fall day. Brilliant blue sky, the mountains glittering with blue-white snow, and Daniel's sleepy blue eyes looking back at him as Jack helped him into his pickup. He decided to take Daniel home with him for that night; he was used to Jack's place, used to Jack, and Jack didn't want him to be alone. Jack didn't want to be alone.

The next day, Jack saw Daniel disappear into General Hammond's office, but he didn't follow nor did he ask. Carter was curious, too, he could tell, but she probably went directly to Daniel. They had their own relationship that didn't really include Jack; he observed them with curiosity and some envy, but he didn't intervene. It was important for a team to develop strong ties, and he was pleased with the strength of theirs. Still. He always had a slightly proprietary feeling about Daniel. He wasn't sure if that was good or bad.

Time passed. They selected another stargate address to investigate; Carter sent a UAV through, and she and Daniel spent several days examining the scans it sent back. They reviewed reports from other SGC teams, and returned to planets they'd visited in the past, to strengthen their ties with the inhabitants and learn more about them. Daniel was invited to visit an archaeological dig on P3X-754 and spent two weeks there, weeks Jack could see were good for him. He came back tan and happy and carrying a backpack full of artifacts to study and run tests on.

Winter came on, a little early for Colorado Springs, but largely unnoticed under the mountain. Jack had Daniel and Teal'c over to help put up storm windows and eat chili and watch football on a Saturday; Daniel took Teal'c to Denver to see an exhibit of Egyptian art; Carter took Daniel to her cousin's wedding in Omaha.

A few days after Thanksgiving, SG-1 stepped through the shimmering event horizon in Cheyenne Mountain and out onto a planet designated P3X-151. Jack's first thought was: poppies. Wizard of Oz poppy fields everywhere, a soft yellow-orange stretching for miles around them. The air was hazy with pollen, and smelled a little dusty. Daniel sneezed powerfully.

"Bless," Jack said as he looked around curiously. "Carter, check out the DHD. Teal'c," and he gestured for Teal'c to move ahead. "Daniel, with me. Bless," he added, as Daniel sneezed again. "Do you have any antihistamine?"

"Yed," Daniel said, digging through his pockets. Teal'c handed him a water bottle and they waited until he swallowed them down. "Thank you."

Teal'c took point, as usual, with Jack and Daniel following, and Carter on their six. "DHD looks good, sir," she said as they stepped past her, and Jack nodded appreciatively.

"Okay, kids; remind me why we're here?"

"Trinium," Daniel said obediently. "The geologists felt the scans read positive for it."

"Daniel Jackson is correct," Teal'c said. "Approximately two miles in this direction." Jack thought he could see hills rising in the distance, but the air was too hazy for him to be sure.

They walked in silence. Jack continued to look around him, a little in awe of the sheer number of poppy-like flowers. He wondered if the entire world was covered in them, or if this enormous meadow was an aberration. It was very beautiful, and he felt, as Dorothy had, that he could lie down and sleep here forever.

"Did the UAV show this?" he asked Carter, who hesitated, then nodded.

"In a way. They weren't in bloom, though. We thought it was a grasslands planet. We've seen those before."

"We should take some samples back," Daniel said. "I know the botanists would love to see them, test them."

"Always thinkin' of the scientists, aren't you, Daniel."

Daniel gave him a look, but refused to be baited. Jack was proud of him; six years ago, he'd've felt the need to justify himself. Now, he was more likely to give Jack the finger. Jack felt that was a definite improvement.

Still they traipsed through the poppies, kicking up even more pollen and dust. Daniel wasn't sneezing yet, but Jack felt sure his Allegra wouldn't be able to handle this quantity of alien pollen. They needed to get in and out quickly.

"Here," Carter said at last, and Jack sighed. His team moved rapidly into place; they'd made a hundred of these kinds of trips in their years together. Carter and Teal'c took the samples, following the geologists' suggestions, while Daniel guided them from the map and labeled the various vials and containers. Just like a dig, Daniel had told him once, and Jack wondered, as he had so often before, if Daniel would ever decide he wanted to return to archaeology. He dreaded that day.

The day wore on. Jack walked the perimeter three times, each time expanding it, searching for who knew what. Just miles of poppies. Slight hills in the direction they'd been hiking, but all covered in the same flowers. It was beautiful, and a bit dizzying all at once. He kept twisting back to watch the others as they worked, steadily moving through their assignment, Daniel calling out directions to them and checking off the geologists' wish list.

At last Jack called a break. They settled down among the poppies, sitting on their packs so they could see above them. "So who's the cowardly lion, Jack?" Daniel teased him, opening his water bottle.

"I remember when you were the scarecrow," he shot back, pleased. But not anymore, he admitted to himself, noticing again Daniel's haircut. He looked good in the brown tee shirt they wore for these trips. A big change. A big change.

After a snack and a short rest, Jack popped up to start the perimeter walk again. "Uh oh," he said, staring back toward the stargate. All three rose and turned in that direction.

"O'Neill. I believe we should return immediately."

"Ten-four, big guy," Jack said, not taking his eyes off the storm building in the distance. "Okay, kids. Pack up and let's get out of here. If the samples we have are any good, we'll come back, or send SG-11 through. But we need to get out of here."

He chivvied them back double-time, keeping his eye always on the storm ahead of them. They were jogging straight into it. The air lifted their hair and even more pollen swirled through the air. Jack had them put their goggles on, despite Daniel's complaint that he couldn't see through them.

The air began to smell sweeter, and wetter. It was exhilarating, in a way, to be out in such weather, but the sharp scent of ozone began to cut through the moist luscious air, and they began to run. Jack contemplated leaving their packs behind, so they could run faster, but decided to postpone that decision a while longer. He took their six, and watched Daniel and Carter leap through the poppy field, laughing and urging each other on. Teal'c followed them closely, churning up the ground steadily but carefully remaining just behind them.

Lightning shattered the sky, a brilliant flash of white zigzagging ahead of them. Jack counted: one mississippi, two mississippi, until he reached eleven, when thunder rolled across the sky. He could feel it shaking against his skin. Not too far away then. They couldn't run any faster unless they dropped their packs; Jack decided to risk it, and left them on.

The gate loomed ahead of them, its dully gleaming circle framing the darkest clouds, deep purple and a dark blue that reminded Jack of Daniel's eyes. They raced toward the circle, no longer laughing. A wind pushed into them, flattening the poppies, and Jack felt it enter his lungs, inflating them.

Daniel looked back at him, eyes invisible behind the goggles Jack had insisted he wear, but his face wore an expression Jack knew well: he trusted Jack to get them back safely. As long as Jack was right behind him, Daniel assumed all would be well. Jack didn't know if that made him happy, fearful, or angry, but he ran even faster, ignoring his aching knees and the pounding of his pack against his shoulders and back, stretching out his legs as if he were twenty years younger, and ran directly into the storm.

The platform and DHD were visible when the rain started. Abruptly, impossibly abruptly, the sky suddenly opened up on them, the rain falling as if dropped from buckets. Jack could barely breathe through it, and the ground was sodden beneath his boots. He grabbed Daniel's shoulder and Carter's elbow; he saw Teal'c had taken her hand, and they ran together the last hundred yards, their legs pumping in unison, water splashing mud and pollen over their BDUs.

"Dial us home, Daniel!" he shouted over the rain, and they stood gasping for breath, Jack hanging onto the DHD as Daniel slapped the glyphs and the wormhole engaged. It whooshed out at the same instant lightning filled the sky, and for a moment, Jack thought the wormhole would draw the lightning right through it. Then both subsided, and only the sullen shimmer of the event horizon glowed in the dark afternoon. "Home," Jack gasped.

"No, wait, sir," Carter said preemptively, and all four paused, staring into the wormhole.

"The lightning," Daniel guessed, and she nodded. It was raining harder now, and water was sheeting off them. They couldn't have been more wet if they'd gone swimming in their BDUs.

"Shit," Jack said. Okay. So they'd stay here till the storm passed. "Pull out your raingear, and let's get under some kind of cover. Teal'c, let's rig a tarp from the DHD."

Jack unsnapped his pack and flung it splashing onto the ground, then ripped it open and pulled out a tent. Unrolling it, he lay it next to the DHD. "Carter, Daniel -- get down!" he shouted at them over the noise of the downpour. Teal'c was unfurling a tarp; Jack grabbed one end and began fastening it into the ground while Teal'c tied the other end around the DHD. Daniel was still staring at him, but Carter tugged at him and they disappeared under the inadequate shelter of the tarp.

Water was streaming off Jack when he finally bent to crawl under the protection. Carter and Daniel were sitting pressed into each other, Daniel briskly rubbing her back and upper arms, trying to warm her. Both were trembling with cold, and probably fear. For a moment, Jack couldn't move, just squatted there in the rain, the cold pellets slapping into his head and face as he stared at his teammates. He was shocked at how much he didn't want to see them together. "O'Neill!" Teal'c shouted as he slid under the tarp, closest to the DHD. Daniel looked up at him and pulled away from Carter, holding out his arms to Jack.

In that brief moment, Jack saw Carter's face fall as she glanced between the two men, knew that she understood something that he did not. He couldn't swallow, couldn't move, until Daniel grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the rain and into his arms. He let Daniel do it, let him pull Jack to him, and trembled in cold and, yes, definitely, in fear, as Daniel's long-fingered hands scrubbed at his back and upper arms.

He couldn't look at Teal'c and Carter, so he tucked himself to Daniel, hiding his face in Daniel's sodden jacket, the zipper scratching at his cheek. Despite the wet, his mouth was too dry to swallow. He'd seen Daniel's face, too, in that moment, how Daniel had lit up at seeing Jack, how he'd instantly forgotten Carter's presence or needs, and how he'd turned to Jack for the comfort that Jack, despite himself, couldn't help offering. Needed to offer. Needed to have Daniel accept.

He'd done this. Jack had. All those years ago on Abydos, he'd been there for Daniel, just as Daniel had been there for Jack. He was doing it still, by crouching here in Daniel's arms while Carter was inches away. Cursing his cowardice, he raised his head and saw that Teal'c was holding Carter now, and that they'd lain down on top of the tent. He pushed Daniel back and down, until he was pressed against Carter, so the two youngest members of his team were stretched out together, and then pushed his own body against Daniel's. He and Teal'c had made a Daniel-and-Carter sandwich, he thought, and wondered if hypothermia had already set in.

It was too loud to talk; they could only shout at each other over the rain, but nobody was shouting now. Again lightning flashed, brighter, and almost instantly thunder crashed around them, literally hurting his ears. He swore that he could feel the static electricity race across his body, raising the hair on his arms, that he could feel the air shake from the force of the thunder. He shivered, and felt Daniel pull him closer.

He gave up. He just gave up. He put his head back down onto Daniel's chest and let himself be petted and touched so familiarly. It was too late. Carter had seen. Teal'c had probably known forever. Shit, Ra had probably known. He sighed, and let his muscles relax at last, cuddled against Daniel's warm, strong body. Daniel wrapped his entire body around Jack. Just like Daniel did everything, he thought. He gives it his all. He's giving me his all.

No storm could continue for long as powerfully as this one was. Jack wasn't sure how long they lay there, out of the rain but still in danger from the lightning. He realized that using the DHD as an anchor for the tarp had probably been stupid, but he was too cold and weirded out to care very much. At least the four of them were together, however tenuously.

The lightning grew less frequent and dimmer, although the rain continued unabated. The air under the tarp grew thick with the smell of each other and their steaming clothes. Daniel smelled like coffee and deodorant and aftershave and sweat, a combination Jack discovered he liked. He sniffed indelicately at Daniel's armpit, so near his nose, and smiled to himself.

Holy shit.

At last, Daniel sighed and stretched, and rolled halfway onto his back. "Sam? Teal'c? You okay?"

"We are, Daniel Jackson."

Carter didn't respond, Jack noted dully. Holy shit. He wondered what she'd do, if she'd treat him or Daniel any differently. He hoped not. He wasn't sure what he was going to do. He just wanted to get that fucking wormhole open so he could go home and take the world's longest, hottest shower.

"You think it's safe now, Carter?" he forced himself to ask.

He heard her stir behind Daniel. "Yes, sir," she said, and sounded so Carter-ish that he could have kissed her. Or Daniel. At this point, he wasn't sure which.

Without realizing it until it was done, he hugged Daniel tightly, as if saying goodbye, and then crawled out from under the tarp, which was sagging ominously, filled with water. "Careful getting out of there," he said, but Daniel of course bumped his head and about five gallons of water poured down Jack's boots. "Thanks."

"Oh, Jack, I'm sorry," he started, but Jack could only smile and shake his head. Carter's soaked curls appeared next, and then Teal'c bald head. They untied the tarp and Carter pressed the glyphs, starting the stargate turning.

They staggered onto the ramp in the SGC's gateroom, dripping wet and muddy. "Medic!" someone shouted, and for once Jack was grateful to know they'd be sent to the infirmary. Somehow he'd taken Daniel's shoulder and Carter's elbow again, and saw that Teal'c was still holding Carter's hand, no doubt from the same impulse he was experiencing: to make sure they were all safe, all secure.

He dropped his hands and wiped the water from his face. "What a trip," he said, and Daniel sneezed. "Bless."

"Thank you."

"Colonel O'Neill, is your team all right?" General Hammond demanded of him.

He shook his head, sending water everywhere. "I think so, sir. Daniel? Teal'c? Carter? Sound off."

"I'm okay, Jack."

"Yes, sir."

"I am well, O'Neill, although in need of dry clothing."

"Yeah, well, me, too, Teal'c. There you have it, General."

The general's expression softened. "Good to hear it, Colonel. Get your team to the infirmary. We'll debrief in two hours. Give you time to change and get some warm food into yourselves."

"Thank you, sir. Kids." Jack led the way, surrounded by a team from the infirmary.

They were, of course, fine. Daniel was still sneezing, so Frasier gave him a shot of a stronger antihistamine, which made him sleepy, which made him cross, but Jack was used to that by now. "Showers," Doctor Frasier insisted, and they went gratefully, peeling their sticky tee shirts away from their bodies. "You can use the infirmary shower, Sam," Frasier told her, so she wouldn't have to wait for the men to finish first.

"That was some storm," Jack said to Teal'c and Daniel once they were in the commissary, drinking hot soup and hot coffee. "Never seen anything like it."

"I hope we got enough samples," Daniel said, predictably, and smiled sleepily at Jack.

An airman approached them. "Doctor Jackson, sir. There's an urgent phone call for you."

Jack stood up at the same time Daniel did. "It's okay, Jack. We know what it's about."

"Yeah." Nonetheless he followed Daniel to his office and shut the door behind them while Daniel held the phone in his hands. He waited patiently, watching Daniel twist the cord between the phone and the receiver, not looking up at Jack. "You want me to call, Danny?" he finally asked.

"No. No, I'll do it." But he didn't, not for a while longer. At last he said, "I don't know what to do."

"Let me call for you."

Daniel hesitated, then said, "No. I'll do it." He began to dial, sighing deeply as he did. A long pause, and then he said, "Mister Edwards? This is Daniel Jackson."

He looked at Jack, his brows drawn together. "When?"

He sighed again, and nodded. "Thank you, Mister Edwards. I'm so, so sorry. Please tell your wife how, how . . ." but then he couldn't speak. His eyes filled with tears. "Thank you," he whispered. "I loved him, too."

Jack took the phone from him. "Mister Edwards, when will the funeral be?"

"Colonel O'Neill? On Tuesday. Will Daniel be able to come?"

"I'll bring him."

"Thank you. Thank you."

They said goodbye, and Jack hung up. Daniel still stood before him.

Daniel stared at Jack. He knew he was crying and was vaguely embarrassed by that knowledge, but the weight of Ben's death after the danger SG-1 had faced that afternoon was just too much. He'd been frightened by the lightning, like a child, except it wasn't really childish to be frightened of something that could kill you, was it? Like leukemia.

Had Ben been afraid? He didn't know. They hadn't spoken of his illness at all, but had reminisced. Both had apologized, repeatedly. Daniel supposed they'd reached a kind of closure, after all those years, but what could be a more final closure than death? And Ben was gone, irrevocably gone from Daniel's life, leaving only memories of warm afternoons in bed, and their agonized break up.

He wondered how Reina was doing, and Ben's parents, and his children, whom Daniel hadn't met. Jack would take him to the memorial, he knew, so he'd see them there. Three and six, Ben had told him. Old enough to know that Daddy wasn't ever coming back to them.

He raised his eyes and saw Jack staring at him, concern written on his face as if carved with a knife. For a long moment they stood there, and then Jack closed his eyes before stepping to Daniel and taking him in his arms. "I'm sorry," he whispered. Daniel dropped his head onto Jack's shoulder, grateful that Jack was, once again, here with him.

"Everything just goes," he whispered, and Jack's grip tightened on him. Jack knew. That's why Jack was here with Daniel, and that's why Daniel was here with Jack: they both knew he was right. Everything just goes away, no matter how tightly you cling to it. He was crying harder now, making little distressed noises, but he felt oddly distanced from his grief. He knew from experience it would hit him harder at night, that night and the next, and that in a few weeks he'd dream of Ben. He always did dream of his dead.

Jack wasn't telling him it was all right, he wasn't shushing him, making soothing noises. He was just holding him, clutching him, really, almost painfully hard, and slowly Daniel became aware that Jack was crying, too. Jack was in some terrible psychic or even physical pain, gripping Daniel's body, shaking like a terrier in the rain as he struggled to contain himself.

So Daniel put his arms around Jack and began to rub his back and arms, the way he had under the tarp when he'd been trying to warm him up, and Daniel made the soothing noises. "It's okay, Jack. We'll be okay. I promise. I promise."

"No," Jack gasped, his voice husky and raw. "No. We're not. It's just us, Danny. We're all we have left now. Jesus. Jesus." And to Daniel's extreme pain, Jack began to sob, horrible noises torn from him, the product of years and years of hurt, choked out onto Daniel's shoulder.

Daniel rocked his friend gently, humming softly to him, "There, there," wishing he could do something to help but knowing there was nothing anyone could ever do. Only death would take away Jack's pain, and Daniel wasn't ready for that. He would never be ready for that.

But, like the storm they'd survived, they managed to get through the next moments. Like the storm, they couldn't continue to exist in that kind of pain for very long, or they would die. Daniel held onto his friend and felt his muscles relax, as they had under the tarp. Eventually Jack took an enormous breath and sighed heavily.

"Wow," he said, and Daniel laughed weakly.

"Yeah."

"Sorry."

"No. Don't be." Jack tried to extricate himself from Daniel's grasp, but Daniel held on. He knew, somehow, that it was important to hold onto Jack for a bit more; that something else needed to happen now. Jack acquiesced and almost fell back against Daniel's body, sighing again. Daniel wondered what he was thinking. They'd always touched each other in ways no one else had -- not even Daniel's lovers had touched in him public the way Jack did. It was as if Jack carried some aura that prevented people from making judgments about those touches the way Daniel had feared they would judge him and Ben. Jack was safe. Jack was safety. Jack was, Daniel knew with a sudden and powerful certainty, home.

I love you, he thought, surprised he hadn't said it aloud. But Jack already knew that, just as Daniel had known that Jack loved him.

At last, Jack pulled away from Daniel, but didn't let go of him. He looked long and hard at Daniel's eyes, seeking something, some reassurance, and then nodded to himself. Daniel would be okay. He'd cry and have nightmares; they'd spent enough time together over the years that Jack already knew that, but he'd be okay. This time.

"We've got to get to the briefing," he told Daniel, who was watching him wide-eyed. "We'll tell him what's happened, and then we'll go. Okay?"

"Yes, Jack." For once, Daniel showed no signs of arguing with him, and Jack was deeply grateful. They continued to stand close to each other, their arms looped around each other. Jack knew his face was red from his embarrassing attack of tears, whatever the fuck *that* was about, but Daniel's was, too, so it was okay. Kind of.

Then he gently shook Daniel. "I gotta pee," he said, meaning, we gotta wash our faces, look like grownups again, and Daniel nodded and followed him down the corridor to the nearest men's room. They still looked like a train wreck, Jack thought, but time was up. Hammond and the others needed to know what was up.

He slung an arm over Daniel's shoulder and led him into the briefing room. Carter was already there, sitting next to Teal'c, sipping a mug of something steaming. He nearly stopped in his tracks, but Daniel's inertia pushed against him and he kept going. He'd forgotten that moment under the tarp in the rainstorm, when Carter had looked at him with so much knowledge in her eyes. They had both eaten the fruit of the tree and had suddenly known shame. All in all, it was shaping up to be one of Jack's more embarrassing days, he reflected sourly, but he greeted the others and Carter nodded politely at him.

"Sir."

"Colonel O'Neill," Hammond said, and they all sat. "What happened on that planet? The wormhole engaged, and your GDO came through."

"Yes, sir. In a minute. First, I need to tell you all something." He glanced at Daniel who was staring at the top of the table in front of him, his arms resting on it. No movement, no glances at Jack; his body was telling Jack that he couldn't do this. Okay. So Jack would. "You remember some weeks ago Daniel heard from an old friend." Daniel dropped his head, and Jack put a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry to tell you that his friend has, uh, passed away. With your permission, sir, I'm going to take Daniel back for the memorial service."

He stared at Hammond, willing him to say yes, and not to find it odd that he'd want to accompany Daniel at such an intimate time. Hammond liked Daniel, probably loved him like the son he'd lost, and his face softened. "Of course," he said quietly.

"Daniel, I'm so sorry," Carter whispered, and stretched her arm across the table toward him. Daniel hesitated, and then reached back, so they briefly linked fingers, Carter stroking his gently.

"Thanks, Sam," he eventually whispered. Jack glanced at Teal'c's face. He wouldn't say anything, Jack knew, but he'd be with Daniel after the briefing, offering his silent presence they all found so comforting.

"Doctor Jackson, I can't say how sorry I am," Hammond finally said. "You and Colonel O'Neill have a week away. SG-1 is stood down until you return. You all need some time away from this job. Even you, Teal'c," he added, although he hadn't said anything. There was a long pause, and then Hammond opened the file in front of him. "Let's get this over with as quickly as possible. Major Carter, please."

Jack was both annoyed and relieved that Hammond had requested Carter report back. He kept his hand on Daniel's shoulder, although Carter had withdrawn hers so she could flip through her hastily written notes. Teal'c stared into space, lost in whatever thoughts he might carry within him. Probably of loved ones he'd lost, too. Somehow Jack was certain that Teal'c knew who Ben had been to Daniel; the two men were closer than they had any right to be with their shared histories.

Hammond was as good as his word; the briefing was completed in twenty minutes. Jack urged Daniel up but Hammond caught him before they left. "Daniel," he said softly, and Daniel looked at him with watery eyes. "Take your time, son."

"Thank you," he whispered. After another awkward moment, Jack steered him back to his office, poured him some coffee, and then got on the horn to arrange for another flight to O'Hare. They would leave tomorrow; Daniel was coming home with him tonight.

They stopped at Daniel's apartment on the way home, so he could pack, and then at a specialty grocery store for dinner. Jack wanted comfort food: a roasted chicken, pre-made mashed potatoes with a big container of gravy, a side of cranberry sauce, a bag of salad, an apple pie from the bakery. His truck smelled wonderful by the time they got home and they ate as soon as they walked in the door. Even Daniel was starved, it seemed, and that made Jack feel better.

As they washed up afterwards, Jack wondered how they'd spend this evening. If he should direct the conversation to Ben, let Daniel reminisce, or if it should be a night of distractions. He glanced again at Daniel, standing quietly near him drying dishes and putting them away. He knew the inside of Jack's cupboards as well as Jack did now. They knew each other's homes, habits, everything. Everything.

Finally, he decided to ask. "So, what's next on the agenda?"

Daniel gave him a long look. Sphinx-like, Jack thought; too many years in Egypt.

"Well? TV? What's on? What day is it, anyway? What good's a calendar if it can't tell you which of the thirty-one days is it?" He was grousing to get a rise out of Daniel, an old game, one they both usually enjoyed. Daniel rolled his eyes at him.

"It's Sunday, and the X-Files is on."

"Oh, puh-leeze. Now that they got rid of Mulder, what's left? Doggett? I don't think so."

Daniel laughed, and Jack's heart lifted. Oh god, make this okay. "Well, there's always Skinner and Scully."

"Be still my heart. Skinner. Jesus. Might as well lust after Hammond."

"Who said anything about lust, Jack?"

They stared at each other, and Jack wondered what the hell he *had* meant. Did he have a thing for Skinner? "Uh," he said, feeling stupid, but fortunately Daniel took pity on him.

"If you're going to engage in homoerotic fantasies, at least lust after *Krycek*," he scolded, and Jack was able to breathe again.

"Okay," he said like a dope, just happy to have Daniel back, really back with him. "Beer?"

"Coffee."

"Decaf."

"Ja-ack."

"Daniel." But he saw Daniel pull out the decaf beans from the freezer; of course he had Daniel's favorite beans in his freezer, caf and decaf, and once certain that Daniel wasn't going to switch to caffeinated, he grabbed his beer and turned on the TV. Not to X-Files, though. Sex and the City. Usually there was a boob-alert to look forward to.

Daniel sat next to him, and Jack again put his arm around Daniel's shoulder. Daniel scooted closer, and they watched in silence as the four women engaged in whatever bizarre behavior the writers could dream up. Jack had known a lot of women and he didn't think any of them acted or thought like the Sex and the City women did. At least he hoped not. If they did, there was a large contingent of women laughing at Jack O'Neill right now.

"Would you fuck Samantha?" Daniel asked him, and for a heart-stopping minute, Jack thought he meant Major Doctor Samantha Carter, until he realized Daniel meant the statuesque blonde on the TV.

Be still, my heart, he thought. "I wouldn't kick her out of my bed. But man, I'd wear a couple condoms. No tellin' *where* that bitch has been." Daniel giggled. "Would you?"

"Oh. I wouldn't kick her out of my bed. I just can't imagine how she'd *get* there."

"Trust me, Daniel," Jack told him dryly, not taking his eyes off the images on the TV set. "One look, and she'd be all over you like white on rice."

"Uh. Thanks. I think."

"You're welcome."

Daniel's room was all set up for him. Over the years, a few of Daniel's things had migrated there, and Jack had picked up other stuff. An alarm clock with an especially loud alarm. A reading light. A nightstand with a bookcase built into it. A place for a picture of Sha'uri.

Jack stood in the doorway, arms crossed, and watched as Daniel puttered around, getting ready for bed. He'd stood there a million times before, it seemed, watching Daniel. Different Daniels. Strung-out Daniel. Exhausted Daniel. Emotionally wrecked Daniel. Delighted Daniel. His complex and confusing friend. Little brother, maybe. Son, kind of. Jack's son. He smiled at the fancy; it wasn't the first time he'd had it.

Daniel sat on the bed, wearing his sleeping boxers and a dingy white tee shirt. "Thanks, Jack."

Jack nodded. "You okay?"

He shrugged. "I have to be, don't I."

"No. No, you don't. You don't have to be or do anything, Daniel."

They stared at each other, and then Daniel smiled slightly and nodded his head. "Thanks."

"Good night, Daniel."

Daniel lay in his bed, in Jack's home, and listened to Jack get ready for bed. A familiar bed, familiar sounds. The door to his room was open a couple inches, and light from Jack's bedroom down the hall fell in a long oblong across the carpet and over the foot of his bed. As if Jack were reaching out to him, he thought, and then rolled over to look at Sha'uri, smiling at him from so far away. So far away.

The light went out, and he was left in darkness. He thought about crying, knew that if he focused on his pain and loss he could, but he was so tired. He'd cried enough that afternoon in Jack's arms. And Jack had cried, too. Daniel was moved by Jack's tears; Jack rarely wept. A few tears now and then, at moments in extremis, like the pain from that bolt through his shoulder that pinned him to the gateroom wall, or when he'd finally stepped back through the gate from Edora. But for Jack to sob like that -- Daniel realized it had only ever happened when he'd been crying. His first night back on earth, after Sha'uri had been taken and Jack had brought him home. He'd gotten drunk on two beers and cried in Jack's arms, and Jack had cried, too. And after Sha'uri had died. A time he still refused to remember in any detail.

He flipped onto his back. It was too much to think about right now; he felt too fragile to tease out his thoughts, too tired to understand the significance of his discovery. It was just Jack, after all. His friend. Best friend in the entire galaxy.

He sighed, and remembered Jack sighing against his shoulder that afternoon. He put his arm across his face and remembered the warm breath gusting onto his neck, heating his skin. He fell asleep remembering.

Jack forced him to take Dramamine again in the morning, after he'd had a couple cups of coffee. Daniel wanted to fight, but he knew it was best. He didn't want to puke for a thousand miles, in front of strangers. And sleep sounded good. He wouldn't have to think if he slept.

So their journey was nearly over before it had begun for Daniel. He staggered down the steep metal steps from the transport plane, clattering after the tall Air Force types who'd flown with them, staggering a little from the effects of the Dramamine and the long sleep. Jack grabbed his jacket and kept him upright until he could catch his balance. God knows what the airmen thought, but he was used to that by now.

Another black Lincoln Town Car was waiting for them; Daniel wondered how many the Air Force owned, and who decided who could use one. He was actually a little unclear on how high a rank colonel was; could Jack commandeer a limousine and driver? Or was it General Hammond's doing? Daniel was very fond of the general. He had been ever since the general had referred to Daniel as "our boy," years earlier. Parentless for so long, Daniel liked the notion, and smiled at it now as he climbed into the car.

"What? What?" Jack asked, sounding exactly like Jack, and that made Daniel smile even more. Maybe the Dramamine had given him a little buzz?

"Just wondering how come we rate a limo."

"Hunh. Like I'd drive in Chicago."

"Where are we going, Jack?" Daniel suddenly realized he didn't have a clue -- he'd just blindly followed Jack a thousand miles. "When's the service? Where is it?"

"Tomorrow. At eleven, and then a, a gathering afterwards. Wake. I dunno. We're going back to the same hotel; I liked it. Unless you want to see the Edwards today."

Daniel thought about that, turning his face away from Jack and staring out the tinted passenger window as they wound their way out of the airport. Did he want to see Ben's family? Reina and the kids? His parents, maybe. Mr. Edwards had always liked Daniel. At last he shook his head. "Tomorrow," he said simply, and Jack nodded.

He settled back into the comfortable seat and let Jack take the lead.

Daniel was unusually passive, Jack thought, surreptitiously studying his friend's face. The Dramamine, certainly, but also the shock of losing his friend. Lover. Ex-lover. He felt himself make a face and was glad Daniel's eyes were closed. He had tried to imagine Daniel and Ben together. In bed together, specifically. Doing stuff. He wondered, not for the first time, what Daniel's face would look like during sex. Would he gaze at his partner with the same intensity he saved for his artifacts?

Stupid thoughts. Jack had stopped asking himself why he had them. Like Daniel, they were just there, a part of his life now. A part of who he was. What Daniel had made him.

He scooted a little closer to Daniel and sat so their shoulders touched. Daniel glanced at him, face unreadable as always, and then leaned against him. It made the trip a little more bearable for Jack, and, he hoped, for Daniel.

They were in an even nicer room than the last time, Jack noticed. Must be the general's doing. A bigger living room with enormous windows looking over Lake Michigan, a full bar along the opposite wall, its mirror reflecting the grey sky, filling the room with a steely light. Daniel peeked into the bedrooms and bathrooms, still carrying his bag and briefcase; Jack smiled at him and pointed. He knew they'd share a room again.

"Too early for a scotch?" he called, pulling one out for himself.

"No," Daniel said, coming back empty handed. "For a lot of scotches, I think."

Jack poured them both a glass, over ice with a little water, and then handed one to Daniel. "To old friends," he said softly. Daniel smiled at him; he understood. They clinked glasses and Jack drank gratefully. He fucking hated funerals, and here he was going to one for someone he didn't even really know. "Better hang up my dress blues," he told Daniel, who followed him into the bedroom. Two queen sized beds again, a TV, a walk-in closet, and a big bathroom. Really nice. Well, shit. After everything he and Daniel had been through, the Air Force could afford to treat them right for a few days.

They had a week, Hammond had said. Jack wondered if they'd spend most of the time here. He liked the idea. He'd always liked Chicago, and it was cool, being right on the Miracle Mile. Daniel had bad memories of the Oriental Institute, of course, but maybe they could visit the Art Institute. Eat in the cafe downstairs. Watch the Chicago cops work the traffic like maestros. Go to a Bulls game. Now that was an idea. He'd see if he could get tickets and surprise Daniel. Not that Daniel watched basketball, but hey. It was Da Bulls.

"Hang up your suit," he told Daniel, and waited, making sure he'd brought the nice dark one he'd worn to Omoc's funeral. Also the dark wool overcoat. Thank god Daniel was giving up that starving student look; it had served him well, but he was far beyond that now.

To his dismay, Daniel leaned against the doors to the closet and began to cry. "Shit," Jack said, and hastily sat down his drink. "Come on, buddy. Come on." He led Daniel to the nearest bed and pushed him down, letting him literally cry on his shoulder. Fuck, he thought. He didn't need this. But Daniel needed it even less. Jack knew he was crying for far more than Ben. He was crying for his parents, his lost youth, his wasted academic career, his wife, his almost-son, his own life. He was even crying for Jack, Jack knew: for Jack's son, ex-wife, his many injuries. For the fear that Jack would die. He was crying for the whole world, the entire galaxy.

Jack wished that Thor would suddenly sweep them up in a beam of light and take them aboard his magic ship, where everything was all right and the Asgard could take care of anything. Everything.

But there are no gods, he heard Daniel say in his head. Only dead false gods. Not even the Asgard could fix this. Not even the Nox. This was the entropy of the universe, and all the tears in the galaxy couldn't slow it down.

He settled Daniel more comfortably against him and let him cry. Not sobbing, just a slow leak. He sighed, and remembered Charlie crying in his arms over something. Who knows what. It didn't matter. All that mattered was that it had hurt bad enough to cry over. He kissed Daniel's dark hair, and rubbed his face against its soft spikes. What a weird fucked-up relationship he had with this man.

"Sorry," Daniel finally said, and wiped his face against Jack's shirt.

"Hey. Kleenex," he warned, but didn't let Daniel go.

Daniel turned his head so his red face was near Jack's. Jack lay his cheek against Daniel's and they just sat there. Jack's heart started to lighten a bit, without Daniel crying against him. At last he kissed Daniel's hair again, in what he hoped was a paternal gesture, and then gently pulled him to his feet. "Go wash your face. Then we'll get something to eat. I think we should go out. Get outta here for a while."

Daniel obediently went into the bathroom. He didn't bother to close the door, and Jack could hear him pissing, then the water running. His own bladder was full, but rather than walking into the other room, he waited until Daniel returned and then used the toilet there, where Daniel could hear him, too. He suspected Daniel didn't want to be left alone any more than Jack wanted to.

They had a late lunch at a dark old-fashioned businessman's restaurant not too far from their hotel. Jack ordered another scotch, and Daniel followed. He'd be drunk if he tried to keep up with Jack; Daniel called himself a cheap date and it was true. But Jack didn't say anything, just toasted him again when the drinks arrived, and made sure he had a big lunch with plenty of protein. It was good, in a nineteen fifties kind of way.

It had started to snow when they finally left the restaurant. Daniel stood still for a moment, staring up into the sky, watching the tiny flakes sigh downwards. Jack watched them light on Daniel's face, then suddenly melt. He felt melted with affection for his friend. After a moment, he took Daniel's elbow and pulled him along, back to the hotel. Between the Dramamine, the two drinks, and the ache of Ben's death, Daniel seemed to be in an altered emotional state, very distanced from Jack and even from himself. Jack put him to bed, piling an extra blanket on top, then sitting on the bed next to him, looking down at Daniel's sleepy face.

"Go to sleep," he said, as he had a hundred times before, on missions on other worlds, in Daniel's room in Jack's house, in Daniel's room in Daniel's apartment. How often had he been the one there for Daniel? As often as Daniel had been there for Jack.

"Thank you," Daniel said, and Jack knew what he meant. Thanks for not talking about me losing it today. Thanks for being here. Thanks for being Jack.

He thought he understood Daniel better than one human being should understand another.

He stood and turned out the light, then lounged in the doorway for a minute, watching Daniel's sleepy eyes watch him. He smiled and shut the door.

Daniel got up a couple hours later, the hotel's robe pulled around him as if he were cold. "Come here," Jack said, and he sat down right next to Jack, right in his personal space. Jack had been reading the Chicago Sun-Times, but he put it down and leaned back against the couch, pulling Daniel with him.

"Thanks," Daniel said. "I was more tired than I realized."

"Yeah, I could tell. I suppose now isn't the time to give you my lecture on taking care of yourself."

"Um, no. I'll take it as given."

"And pay me no attention."

"Not to the man behind the curtain, no."

Well, that made no sense, but it made Jack feel better. "It's really snowing out."

"Are we going to be able to get to Elmwood tomorrow?"

"Daniel. This is the Air Force. We can do *anything*."

Daniel rolled his eyes, but didn't disagree. "What time is it?"

"Ah." Jack squinted at the clock on the VCR above the TV. "Seven thirty. You slept a long time."

"Don't start."

"No coffee tonight. No, Daniel."

Daniel snuggled against him. "What's for dinner?"

"Room service? Or you wanna go out again?"

"Room service. Pizza. That really good pizza we had last time."

"Okay. And dessert. Something decadent."

"I can't believe you just said 'decadent' in regards to a dessert."

"I can't believe you said 'in regards to' about a dessert."

They didn't speak for a while, just lay back together, resting. Or at least Jack was resting. He was overtired, too. Upset by the scene this afternoon. A little drunk; he'd had another scotch while Daniel had slept. And worried about tomorrow, how they were going to get through it. How Daniel would get through it.

Well, that was tomorrow, and this was tonight. He'd save that worry for tomorrow. "Should I order now? Or do you wanna shower first?"

"Shower. Then food."

"Okay. You go first." He gently pushed at Daniel, who slowly stood up and stretched like a cat, sighing heavily.

"Still groggy," he admitted, looking down at Jack. Jack couldn't say a word; he just looked back and nodded and, after a few moments, Daniel wandered off toward the bathroom and then Jack heard the shower come on.

Jack closed his eyes and dropped his head to the back of the couch. Jesus. How *were* they going to get through the next day?

Jack was pleased when Daniel admitted he was still sleepy after dinner. They both went to bed early, even earlier than it was in Chicago since they were still on Colorado Springs time. Kind of. Who knew what time they were on after sprinting through the stargate so often. No time. Gate time.

His mouth quirked at the thought. Gate time. When Daniel felt better, he'd share that. Daniel would like it. Teal'c wouldn't get it, and Carter would try to work it out mathematically, but Daniel would just give him a cool look that said he got it, appreciated it, and would steal it from him at the first opportunity.

He fucking loved that look.

Jack was a little hungover when he woke the next morning. Daniel was still deeply asleep, which worried him a bit. He'd slept far longer than he normally did. But fuck, he needed it, and he deserved it. Jack took three ibuprofen and gulped down two glasses of water, then plugged in the coffee maker. He washed and shaved in the other bathroom, so he wouldn't disturb Daniel, and drank the entire pot of coffee by himself. After an hour he started to feel better, sitting on the couch reading USA Today and watching the snow come down like a sonuvabitch.

Great day to be buried, he thought, and decided then and there he wanted to have his ashes scattered on the Nox's planet, if they'd let him. Lya would probably let him, and Daniel would do it for him. Of course, Daniel would off himself afterwards, but he'd do that first.

Jack wasn't sure how he knew that Daniel wouldn't survive without him, but he knew it the way he knew his own name. Just one of those things. The sun comes up, the sun goes down, Daniel Jackson needs Jack O'Neill. No use getting upset over something like that, any more than he could get upset at the Goa'uld for being slimy snakes or the Tollan for being arrogant assholes.

Finally, he heard Daniel bumbling around in the other room. He started another pot of coffee and then stuck his head in the door. "Take another shower," he suggested. Daniel looked at him blearily, but nodded, and pushed off the bed. Jack knew he wouldn't say a word until two cups of coffee had disappeared into him, but he didn't worry. Not yet.

The service was at eleven; it took almost an hour to get there on a clear day. Probably should leave two hours today. That meant they had less than an hour for Daniel to get ready. Jack called the driver, made sure he'd be waiting for them. Just a few more hours and this would be over. He'd bring Daniel back to the hotel, get him tipsy again, keep him well-fed and well-slept for a few days, let him cry himself out, and then they'd go back to SGC new men. That was Jack's plan, anyway, and he hoped he was tactician enough to carry it through.

Daniel looked very nice in his dark suit, and Jack knew they made a striking pair standing in the lobby waiting for the driver to leap out of the car and open the back door for them. He was a goddamn colonel; hell if he was going to wait in the snow and slush for that. The drive did take the two hours he'd arranged, so he felt pretty smug about that, getting them there on time.

They sat in the car for a few minutes, the driver patiently waiting for them to get out or tell him to return. "Show time," Jack whispered, and Daniel put his hand on Jack's elbow.

"I'm scared."

"Yeah. Hang on to me, okay? If it gets too bad, let me know and we'll leave."

Daniel turned his head and looked at the church. Some Episcopalian thing; Jack didn't know. They were supposed to be near-Catholics, he'd heard, but he'd never attended a service. Well, funerals were funerals. People would say nice things, people would cry, there'd be flowers, it'd be over. Of course, they still had the damn reception or whatever to get through, but if Daniel was at all shaky, they were bailing.

He waited quietly for Daniel, and eventually Daniel opened the door and got out, Jack following closely. Not a lot of people here; maybe Ben hadn't lived in Elmwood? Just his parents? Who cared.

The ushers clearly knew who Daniel was, though, and put him in the second pew, right behind Ben's parents, who stood and hugged him as they cried. Tears leaked out of Daniel's eyes, too, but he stood straight and whispered something to each of them. Reina was there, frozen looking in her grief, reminding Jack of Sara after Charlie had died. And the two little boys, in their tiny suits, looking bewildered. The littler one was crying quietly, and his big brother was holding his hand. Jack saw Daniel staring at them; Daniel wasn't good with children. He'd been raised around adults. They were exotic to him, he'd confessed one night when they'd talked about Sha'uri being made pregnant by that diva-ed up asshole Apophis. But he leaned over the back of the pew, putting his face near theirs, and spoke quietly to them, words Jack didn't want to hear.

Mr. and Mrs. Edwards shook his hand and thanked him for bringing Daniel, but he paid them almost no attention, focusing entirely on Daniel. One little tremor and he was gonna haul Daniel's ass outta here so fast the congregation wouldn't see them leave. Daniel twisted his head back from where he rested his arms on the back of the pew and gave him a look, as if he'd heard his thought. Jack smiled at him, and Daniel nodded, then turned back to the boys.

At last the service started and they were able to sit. Jack let the words wash over him; comforting, in a way, just to drift. Not to think about why they were there. Again, Jack moved closer to Daniel, so they were touching, thigh, hip, and shoulder, and again, he felt Daniel relax against him. This wasn't new; they'd always touched, although not quite like this. Whatever. It made him feel better and it obviously made Daniel feel better, and beyond that, who gave a fuck.

Afterwards, at the Edwards' home again, Jack stood as straight as a young airman in front of his superiors. "Thank you for coming," Ben's father told Jack for the fifth time. He was about George Hammond's age and looked much older. His wife and daughter-in-law had disappeared, and the two little boys were with another older couple, presumably friends of Ben's parents. Daniel was nowhere in sight, which worried Jack.

"I'm so sorry, sir," Jack said yet again, meaning it yet anxious to be away. "No one should watch his son die," he said. and he meant that, too.

Suddenly Daniel was at his shoulder. Shit, had he heard Jack? "Oh, Dan," Mr. Edwards said, and they hugged, Jack stepping back a little bit, but not far.

It was a quiet gathering. Not everyone from the church had come, so it was even smaller. There was a buffet set up, clearly catered, and a fire in the fireplace, but the house still felt cold and empty to Jack.

At last Mr. Edwards released Daniel and wiped his eyes with a sodden handkerchief, the kind Jack's dad had carried. "I should find Mavis," he said, and tottered off.

Jack took Daniel by the elbow and led him to the coat rack by the front door. "We're gettin' the hell out of Dodge," he said quietly, and was grateful that Daniel didn't argue. The driver saw them emerge from the house and had pulled up to the end of the walkway by the time they'd reached the sidewalk. Jack opened the door and put his hand on Daniel's back, as if he was afraid Daniel would turn back.

"The hotel," he said as he slid in. He slammed the door and shut his eyes. Daniel scooted near him, and he put his arm around his friend. Fuck what the driver thought he was seeing.

It was after four by the time they reached the hotel, and Jack's stomach was complaining loudly. He hadn't eaten anything at the Edwards' buffet, and breakfast had been hours and hours ago. He steered Daniel directly into the hotel's restaurant, the nice one, not the cafe, where they were seated immediately. "Two scotches," he ordered, not even asking Daniel what he wanted.

Daniel slumped in his seat, still looking tired. His eyes were red, although Jack hadn't seen any tears yet today. He supposed they'd come in the evening, when they were alone. "Take off your coat, Daniel," he said, unfolding his napkin. Sometimes when Daniel got like this, Jack felt necessary and important. Sometimes he just felt tired.

At last Daniel sighed and looked up at him, pulling off his damp coat. "Thanks, Jack."

"Not a prob."

"When do we go home?"

Jack smiled to himself; home, again. He loved it that Daniel considered the Springs home now. That he had a home now. "Well, I guess we could go Saturday." He looked slyly at Daniel. "We have to be here Friday night, for the Bulls' game."

"Bulls?"

"Yeah. Basketball team. Buncha big tall guys running around in baggy shorts on a wooden court?"

"When did you get tickets to the Bulls?"

Jack openly smirked. "I have my ways, Doctor Jackson. Listen," he added more seriously, "since we're going to the Bulls game, I want you to pick something. Something you can't get in the Springs." Daniel looked puzzled. "You know. Some cultural thing."

Daniel started to laugh, leaning back in his chair, and then falling forward onto the table. Jack was a little affronted, but only a little. "Hey," he protested, and shoved a newspaper toward him.

"You're serious? We'll do something, ah, cultural? Together?"

"Yes, I'm serious. And I'm paying. My treat. So choose something nice."

"Nice and expensive," Daniel murmured, flipping through the paper to the entertainment section. "Let's see what's happening in the Windy City."

"Did you know they call it the Windy City because of the politicians?" Jack asked, accepting his scotch from the waiter with pleasure.

"So I've heard." But he was studying the paper now, so Jack shut up and read his menu. Nothing looked good to him, but he was hungry. Weird. Well, salad. Maybe some pasta. Something gooey and bad for your heart but good for your soul.

"Read your menu," he told Daniel, and pushed it toward him.

Daniel glanced at it, and returned his attention to the newspaper, saying, "Order for me. You know what I like."

A little thing, but it warmed Jack and made him feel better. He did know what Daniel liked.

"Hey, look," Daniel said. "A new play just opened. 'Chagrin Falls,' and it's getting good reviews. Let's go. Take me to a nice dinner and a play, and I'll go to the basketball game with you."

Jack rolled his eyes, but he was teasing and Daniel knew it. He sipped his scotch. "You put out?"

Daniel laughed again, and Jack settled back. Getting Daniel away from the Edwards had been a good idea. He'd had to go, but he didn't have to stay. There had been too many funerals in Daniel's life, and not enough plays or basketball games. "Not on the first date," he warned.

"Damn." Jack knew Daniel needed something familiar, and their stupid jokes were working. He relaxed further, and raised a finger at the waiter. "Pasta," he announced. Daniel glanced up at him from the paper, but didn't say anything as Jack ordered for them. And the food was pretty good. Not great, but the company helped.

They were quiet on their return to their room, so many flights above. Daniel felt deeply grateful for Jack; once again, he'd magically reached deep inside Daniel's psyche and pulled him out, back into the light and laughter that only Jack could offer him. He knew he faced a difficult night. He needed to think about Ben, and even about Reina and Ben's children and certainly about Ben's parents, who'd always been very kind to Daniel. But he gave himself permission to spend a few more hours in the warm company of sardonic Jack, his friend even after they'd been through so much.

Daniel felt the need to shower again, which he saw Jack notice but not comment on. Sometimes he showered too much; he assumed it was a combination of growing up in places that offered very limited hot water and some compulsive desire to wash all the bad stuff off him. But he was in and out as quickly as he could, and pulled the heavy hotel robe around him again. Jack was in a robe, too, feet up on the glass coffee table, watching a basketball game, the sound muted, when he emerged from their bedroom.

He sat next to Jack, aware of the smell rising from Jack's body, warm, a little sweet from his cologne and deodorant and the scotch he'd had with dinner. He was used to Jack's scent by now and found it as comforting as he found everything else about Jack: his off-beat sense of humor that had emerged as he recovered from his grief. The grey hair that was slowly assuming precedence. His dark eyes glittering at him humorously as they suffered through boring briefings or dangerous encounters. It all equated to Jack.

"Come here," Jack said quietly, and without question, Daniel came to him, leaning against him, nearly lying on him, and they watched the game in silence.

To his regret, Daniel felt the tears swell in his chest and constrict in his throat. Shit. Here we go, he thought, and felt so sorry for Jack. But Jack had known this would happen, that was clear. That's why he was practically sitting on Jack's lap watching a game between two teams he couldn't identify, in a hotel room a thousand miles from Cheyenne Mountain.

He lay his head against Jack's chest and let the tears flow. It was easier to cry tonight. He wasn't choking with painful sobs. Just quiet tears. He couldn't even have said why he was crying. Ben, of course. But Ben was a trigger for other tears, other losses. Jack cuddled him closer, and Daniel felt him kiss his head, that gesture they'd never spoken of. Their relationship was so convoluted. Jack's friend. His subordinate. His civilian advisor. His surrogate brother and son and, sometimes, even Jack's surrogate father. Whatever Jack needed, whatever Daniel needed, they stepped into the roles. Sometimes not very gracefully, and often not very happily, but they did it, and they got through it. Just like Daniel knew Jack would get him through this night.

He sniffed, and Jack handed him a wad of kleenex, so he blew his nose and wiped his eyes. "Sorry," he said, more out of habit than any actual apology. Jack kind of rocked him, a silent acknowledgment, and Daniel relaxed deeper against him. Maybe he could fall asleep like this. He'd like that, with the beating of Jack's heart under his ear and Jack's warmth all around him.

But sleep was elusive. He saw himself lying in Ben's arms, not Jack's. Kissing Ben slowly and lasciviously during long afternoons in that corner dorm room. Exploring Ben's body with his hands and mouth and dick. God. He'd been so in love, and yet he'd walked away. He was such a cold-hearted bastard. No wonder Ben had never forgiven him.

Yet even in Daniel's misery, he knew that wasn't true. Ben had forgiven him years ago. Forgiven, but never forgotten. They'd had something special, but Ben had put it away and let it fossilize, whereas Daniel had eventually let it go. He'd loved others, as fully and completely as he was able to, but Ben had never let go.

Daniel was young enough to be flattered by that and old enough to know it hadn't been healthy. It had damaged Ben's life, and his marriage. Daniel's belated return hadn't magically restored Ben to health, and who knew what injury it had done to his relationship with Reina. But Daniel had had no choice, and he was very good at going with the inevitable. Ben had wanted him, so he'd gone, and Ben had died, so now it was truly over.

He sighed and moved in Jack's arms. "Wanna go to bed?" Jack asked.

"I suppose." They sat there a while longer, then Jack clicked off the TV and they rose. "I feel so bad," he admitted to Jack when he'd sat on the edge of his bed.

"I know, Danny." Jack reached down and touched Daniel's face, so gently. Daniel closed his eyes. If only things could be this way between them all the time. But that wasn't possible. It wasn't possible to live in this kind of extreme state of emotional agitation, and it would be as unhealthy as Ben's obsession with Daniel had been.

"Fuck."

"Go to sleep." Those words again. Heard on so many planets. More planets than most astronomers knew existed. He let his robe fall back and climbed under the covers, Jack pulling at them and straightening them so he could be comfortable. Jack must've tucked Charlie in like this, he thought, and smiled. So he was Jack's son tonight. Tomorrow, maybe he'd be Jack's dad. Didn't matter.

Jack settled next to him and held his hand until he fell asleep. It took a long time, but Jack never moved. When Daniel woke up, full of piss, he saw Jack was sitting up in his bed, the lights still on. He'd fallen asleep reading the sports page, now spread over his lap, and his head was at an awkward angle against the headboard. Daniel peed but didn't flush, not wanting to wake Jack. He was tempted to make him lie down, but Jack looked so tired, the lines on his face much deeper than usual, so he left him as he was, just snapped off the light. He could always give Jack a neck rub tomorrow, if he needed one.

He lay on his side and watched his friend sleep until he, too, fell asleep again.

They were eating breakfast in the cafe when Reina walked in, dressed in jeans and a puffy down coat. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail and her make-up a little smeared, maybe by the wet snow still falling. She was carrying a small package in her hands, and looking around the cafe. Jack knew at once it wasn't a coincidence; she was looking for Daniel. "Danny," he said quietly, and nodded in her direction.

Daniel stood up at once, so she saw him, and walked over to them. "Please, Reina. Have a seat." He waved at a waiter, who brought another cup of coffee without being told. "What can I do for you?"

"You left before I could give you this." Her voice was as chilly as the air she'd brought with her from outdoors, and she slid the little box onto the table toward Daniel. Jack neatly intercepted it.

"It's okay, Jack," Daniel said quietly.

"My job, Daniel."

For a moment, Reina looked interested. "Your job?"

Daniel shook his head. "He's just, ah." He turned to Jack. "Interested."

Jack studied Daniel. He looked better than when they'd arrived: less exhausted. Better fed. More focused. Still not humming at the level of intensity that Jack associated with Daniel, but definitely better. He nodded; yeah, he was interested, and slipped the box into his pocket.

Reina looked again at Daniel. At last she said, "I'm sorry I hated you all those years. You're not who I thought you'd be at all. I'm glad you loved Ben and were there for him at the end." Her voice broke a little, and she whispered, "Thank you, Dan."

Dan. That must be what Ben had called him, Jack thought, staring at her with narrowed eyes. He glanced at Daniel, who looked touched. "You're welcome, Reina. And I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

She sat for another few seconds, and then rose. "I have to go. Mom has the kids; we're taking them to NikeTown for a treat. I can't bear to see them so sad all the time. Children shouldn't lose their parents."

Fuck. Jack closed his eyes at the pain on Daniel's face. "No, they shouldn't," he said softly. Jack wondered how many hours of tears Reina had just purchased for Daniel to suffer through. Goodbye, bitch, he mentally bid her, and she obediently left.

After another silence, Jack said, "Eat your breakfast, Daniel. We're not opening this thing until we're upstairs."

Daniel bent his head to his plate, but Jack noticed he only pushed the eggs around and nibbled on the toast. He drank the coffee, though.

Upstairs, Jack pulled the small box from his pocket and examined it carefully. Not much to see. Just a small white, light-weight cardboard box. He hefted it; it weighed almost nothing. He looked at Daniel, who was watching him closely. After a moment, he tossed it to Daniel, who caught it gracefully and let it sit in his hand as he studied it, too.

At last, Jack sighed. "You gonna open it?" he asked, trying not to let his impatience show too much.

"I don't think so."

"Excuse me?"

Daniel sighed, too, and set the box down on the coffee table, then sat in front of it. "No. I'll keep it, of course, and treasure it. But I don't need to know what's inside."

Jack stared at him. "You want me to open it?"

Daniel smiled, a little mischievously. "That's okay."

Jack just shook his head; he would never understand Doctor Daniel Jackson. Never. "What you wanna do today? We've got all day."

"Um. You mentioned the Art Institute earlier."

Jack actually liked the Art Institute, not that he'd admit that to anyone but Daniel. "Cool. They open at what, nine? Ten? We could leave now and walk. Hey, we got our boots. We're rugged, manly men." Daniel laughed, but didn't disagree. He picked up the box again and disappeared with it into their room, Jack following. Just to get his boots, of course, but also to see that Daniel tucked the box into a side pocket of his briefcase.

They had walked for miles, Daniel decided that night when he finally pulled off his wet boots and set them on newspaper. But it had been fun. He liked being out in the snow, and liked being in Chicago with Jack. They both knew the city, but different Chicagos. Daniel knew the academic's Chicago, home of universities and student hang-outs and funky bars. Jack knew a homeboy's Chicago of ethnic restaurants and cool stores and funky bars. So they showed each other their Chicagos, and ate too much, and even drank a bit too much, but they were walking, and it was cold, and they were sad. So fuck it, Daniel thought, flopping onto his bed. He'd had a rough time; he deserved a little fun.

Outside, he knew it was still snowing, concealing the city in a shroud of velvety white, silencing the traffic, gifting each street light with a radiant aureole. Their walk back to the hotel had been made in a silence unusual between them, and Daniel felt lulled by Jack's comforting company, contemplative and relaxed even in his melancholy.

Inside, Jack was in the bathroom, grumbling; Daniel couldn't hear what he was talking about, just the tone of voice. But it didn't matter. Jack's voice. His master's voice, he thought, and laughed to himself. Jesus. He sat up and began to strip off the rest of his clothes, anxious to sleep.

Jack came out of the bathroom, still grumbling. "You got an extra razor, Daniel? These fucking plastic things. Look, it broke. Just snapped in two."

"Help yourself, Jack," Daniel told him, not even looking up. If he didn't have an extra one, they'd share. "Why are you shaving this time of night?"

Silence. Jack was back in the bathroom. Daniel walked over and peeked in at him, staring into the mirror as he lathered up. "Why are you shaving at night?"

"Hm? I dunno. Just felt like it. Sometimes I do," he added defensively. "Why? That a problem?"

"No."

"You should talk. Look at you."

So Daniel walked behind Jack and looked over his shoulder, at himself in the mirror. It was true: his chin was blue with stubble. "Hm."

"Hm."

But Daniel didn't care. He walked back into the bed and lay down on top of his bed, waiting for his turn. It occurred to him he could walk across the suite and use the other bathroom, but he'd rather wait for Jack. In case he wanted to complain about something else.

He fell asleep like that, and woke when Jack was trying unsuccessfully to roll him under the covers. "Jesus, Danny. You're gonna freeze to death."

"I got it, I got it," he told him, and staggered into the bathroom to free what seemed like a gallon of beer before going back to bed, this time making it under the covers. Jack snapped off the light, and instantly, Daniel was asleep.

He woke disoriented, a little hungover, his mouth tasting nasty. Someone was moaning nearby, and he woke more, lifting his head from his pillow as he remembered where he was. In Chicago, with Jack. Who was in the next bed and suffering from a nightmare. Daniel jerked his covers off and went to Jack's side, sitting next to him on the bed. "Hey, hey," he whispered. Jack was crying in his sleep. Jesus, Daniel thought. For rugged manly men, they'd shed an awful lot of tears this week.

He leaned over and slid his arms around Jack, resting his head on Jack's shoulder. "Jack," he whispered. "Wake up."

Jack sniffed sloppily. "M'wake."

"What's wrong."

"Dreamt of Charlie." Jack's voice was deep and muzzy with sleep; if he were more awake, Daniel knew, he would never have admitted that.

"I'm sorry."

"Oh, god, Daniel. Me, too." He started to cry again, but quietly now. Daniel put his head back down on Jack's shoulder. It should've been me who woke up crying, he thought. But Ben wasn't Charlie, hadn't been anything like Charlie. Ben was a memory, an old, sweet, and achy memory, but Charlie -- he couldn't imagine what Charlie was to Jack. What Daniel's parents were to him, he supposed. It must've been the funeral that set Jack off. A funeral he'd never have attended were it not for Daniel, and Daniel felt a familiar tinge of guilt that he'd inadvertently caused his friend pain yet again.

"Sorry," he said again into Jack's tee shirt, and Jack's arms came around him. They lay like that for several minutes, but Daniel was in a weird position. "Ow," he said finally. "Need to sit up."

Jack scooted over a bit, and somehow Daniel knew he wanted him to lie down by his side. He straightened his back, hearing it crack, and then lay down again, this time pulling his legs up and tucking them under the covers. The bed was warm from Jack's body, and smelled richly of Jack, who pulled him to him and sighed. It did feel good. Comforting.

"I can't believe you didn't open that box," Jack said.

"What?" Daniel couldn't believe his ears. Jack had been crying for his dead son, and now he was fixated on that stupid box? "Look, if you care that much, I'll give it to you."

"No, it's yours. I'm just saying." But he stopped. Probably he didn't know what he was saying, Daniel realized.

"It's okay, Jack. Go to sleep, okay? I'll be here."

They wiggled around a bit, getting comfortable. Daniel remembered the first time he'd slept with Ben. Actually slept with him, as in all night, not just having sex in a bed, a first time that also brought back pleasant memories. But sleeping with Ben had been a miracle of comfort. To have someone there in the night when you woke to go pee, or take a drink of water. Another body who permitted you the intimacy of seeing them asleep and vulnerable. Daniel had loved it so much.

And he loved Jack, he thought, and softly kissed the shoulder near his face. He heard Jack yawn, and then he rolled to face Daniel. "Thanks."

"It's okay. I like it. Like when we share a tent off-world."

"A little different than that."

Daniel smiled. "Yeah. A little." He stroked Jack's short hair, pushing it back from his face. "Jack."

"Hmm."

But Daniel couldn't say it. Wasn't even sure what he wanted to say. And Jack probably already knew. He kissed Jack's shoulder again, having to burrow a bit into the bed to reach it now, and felt Jack kiss his temple as he did. He liked sleeping on his stomach so he stayed that way, feeling the heaviness of sleep pull him down. Jack's breath was comforting in his ear, and the weight of his arm over Daniel's back was a consolation against all the losses he'd suffered.

He dreamt of Ben. They were walking down Michigan Street, through throngs of business people in their uncomfortable clothes, past art students lounging in curbside cafes, and tourists staring open-mouthed at the Wrigley Building or down at the Chicago River. Their arms brushed at each step, and it was as arousing as if they were stroking each other. Daniel found it almost unbearably exciting to be with Ben in a crowd, their secret thrilling him. Ben loved him. Had told him he loved him when they kissed that morning, and would tell him again this afternoon when they finally fell into bed, driven past endurance by this long afternoon of foreplay.

"I love you," he whispered to Ben under the cover of the busy street's noises, and Ben had smiled at him brilliantly. A moment of utter happiness, happiness that pierced Daniel's heart. He knew that moment would stay with him, succor him in the dark moments that always came to him, and he'd been right.

"I love you," Jack said, and the dream changed. Now Jack and Daniel were walking down Michigan Street. Instead of a bright summer afternoon, it was a freezing cold winter morning, snow mounded against the curbs. Their arms brushed as they pushed through the crowds, and Daniel smiled at Jack. He was so happy at that moment. Another moment to treasure.

He sighed and rolled onto his back. Jack was looking at him, his dark eyes unreadable in the night. Had he been dreaming? Which Jack had told him he loved him, the dream Jack or the one right here in his bed? Did it matter? he asked himself, and decided it didn't. Jack loved him. He knew that. No matter what happened, he'd have that knowledge to cling to and comfort himself with.

Jack stroked Daniel's body from his shoulder to his hip, firmly, and then pulled him nearer. Daniel went willingly. He was no longer sure if he was awake or dreaming; he was just going with it, going with Jack. Jack slowly leaned over and, very lightly, kissed Daniel. Just grazed his lips and then equally slowly pulled back. Daniel stretched up to kiss him back, a little more firmly, and then Jack really kissed him, a firm kiss that let him know they both were really awake.

When Jack pulled back, he drew his hand from Daniel's hip across his chest and onto his face, where his thumb stroked Daniel's lower lip. Daniel reached up and hooked his hand behind Jack's neck, and they lay there quietly in the night.

This wouldn't last, Daniel knew. He and Jack didn't live in a world where such things were permitted. A one-night stand, of sorts. Another secret between them. One among so many; their friendship was dense with shared secrets.

Jack kissed him again, and this time Daniel really kissed back. He was waking up and realizing what was happening. Jack was kissing him. Jack knew Daniel better than Daniel knew himself, and Jack found him desirable, and kissable. He tightened his grip on Jack and hugged him, deepening the kiss. Tonight, he was thinking; just tonight is all we'll have. He felt desperate with desire, shivering in Jack's heat. Whatever Jack wanted, Daniel would give him.

Jack was waking up, too, he could tell. His muscle tension was increasing, and he moved his hands over Daniel's body with confidence, sliding his hand under the elastic of his boxers and into his pubic hair. Daniel felt himself rise, hardening under the attention, and pushed himself into Jack's hand, which grasped him firmly and pulled, one long slow pull that brought Daniel fully erect and gasping with desire. "God, Jack," he whispered. "Please, yes." He could feel Jack's smile as he kissed Daniel, and Daniel smiled back.

Jack slung his leg over Daniel's body, so he was straddling Daniel's hips; his briefs were tugged down below his knees. Daniel thought they must look ridiculous, Jack's ass bobbing above him and he thrusting up against Jack, but nobody was looking and nobody cared. It all felt so good, to be desired, to be held, to be loved this way.

All too soon, it was over, and Daniel was coming, groaning luxuriously. "Jack, Jack," he whispered, and clutched him nearer, and then Jack came, pumping hard against Daniel's hip, gripping him fiercely.

He fell diagonally across Daniel's body, so their heads were side-by-side. "Ah, god, Daniel," he moaned, and sniffed again, then wiped his nose. "Jesus."

"Yeah." Daniel lightly touched Jack's face: his forehead and cheeks and nose, then his lips, which kissed Daniel's fingers, bringing tears to his eyes. "Why, Jack?" he had to ask, bracing himself for the answer.

"We almost waited too long." Daniel was puzzled by the answer; he turned in Jack's embrace to better see him. "Don't go."

"No, I'm not. What do you mean?"

"Ben died. Everybody dies. I just, it's just important . . ." His voice trailed off, but Daniel understood. Jack wasn't much of a mystery to him.

"Yeah," he said again, and kissed Jack. "It is important. You're important."

"You are," Jack said, with a hint of teasing in his voice.

"You."

"You."

"You, you asshole."

"Daniel. Did you just call your supervisory officer an asshole?"

Daniel snuggled against Jack. "What if I did? What would he do?"

Jack pulled him firmly against him. "Something harsh. Something -- hard." He laughed. "Except I've reached an age where that'll take a while."

"That's okay. I'll wait."

They were silent for a while. Daniel knew again that this wouldn't last, couldn't, but it was done now. A fait accompli. A moment to treasure when the next shitty thing happened.

"What're you thinking?" Jack asked him.

"Hmm. Just. I'm glad. Really glad."

"Me, too. I didn't want to freak you out."

Daniel laughed. "Not hardly."

"You, uh, think you'll wanna do it again?"

"I know I will, Jack." Daniel was getting sleepy again, a post-coital lassitude relaxing his muscles, his body full of endorphins, and his arms full of Jack. "We're lovers now," he whispered, wondering how Jack would respond.

"Yeah." Jack kissed his forehead tenderly. "Except if that means that I love you, then we've been lovers a long time."

Daniel nodded, his hair brushing against Jack's face. Yeah. They had been lovers a long time.

Well, he'd take what he could get. That was all anyone could do. He loved Jack, and he'd known Jack had loved him for years, now. "I like this," he whispered, his voice barely audible even to his own ears.

"Me, too."

The last thing Daniel remembered was Jack's breath against his face, his hand on his hip. Then he fell into a dreamless sleep.


End file.
